


Blood, Sins, and an Outlaw

by MustardGal



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fix-It, I just really love Arthur, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Torture, Sexual Content, Torture, and I hope I can do him justice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-03-20 16:43:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 100,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18996532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MustardGal/pseuds/MustardGal
Summary: Arthur Morgan knows the world is changing. He's an outlaw, but does he really fit in anymore? Missions keep going wrong and emotions are running high.  Despite this, he can't help but find himself attracted to Sadie.  She's a spitfire who just might be willing to have him.  He and Dutch go to parley with the O'Driscoll's, only to have Arthur captured and tortured.  It leaves him scarred and questioning what and who really matters to him.





	1. Chapter 1

\--Chapter One--

“Sadie!”

Arthur jolted awake as Mary-Beth called out the woman’s name.  “Sadie!” Mary-Beth said, her voice hushed but pronounced. Arthur peered out from under his blanket, blinking harshly.  The young woman paused by Arthur’s tent, her body outlined in an orange haze from the dying campfire behind her. Her hair was loose around her shoulders and she stood in her nightgown.  It was early in the morning; too early. The sun hadn’t even peeked over the mountains yet.

She sounded worried.  With an inward groan, Arthur tossed aside his blanket and sat up in his cot, swinging his bare feet to rest on the cold grass.  “What’s the matter?” he asked her, pulling a shirt out and buttoning it up.

Mary-Beth turned her head to give him some privacy as he dressed, her cheeks flushed.  “Sadie. She’s missing. She was so distraught last night - Karen convinced her to drink, maybe too much - and I think she’s wandered off.  Karen’s passed out and not much help. And I’m pretty sure she went on foot.”

“Mm,” Arthur mumbled, pulling on his boots.  The air was chilly. Spring was on their doorstep, but winter still lingered in the crisp morning air.  He put on his hat and pulled on a jacket, then motioned for Mary-Beth to follow him. The two of them headed to the horses.

“Good mornin’, Ole’ Grumpy,” Arthur said in a low voice to his horse, a tall brown horse speckled with spots.  “Let’s get you saddled up.”

“Thank you, Arthur,” Mary-Beth murmured.  

“You best follow me.”  Arthur set the saddle on the horse and began buckling it tight.  “If the lady’s distraught, well, you’re better at words. I’ll saddle up Ali here.  He’s a bit new, but he’ll do you fine.”

Mary-Beth didn’t argue, only nodded her head.  She wrapped her blanket tighter around her shoulders and shivered.  “She’s been through so much, I just hope she’s alright, you know?”

“I’m sure Mrs. Adler is survivin’,” Arthur said.  He patted Ole’ Grumpy and saddled Ali quickly. Once Mary-Beth was on the horse, he followed suit and the two headed off toward Valentine.

A light mist started as they rode, putting a dour mood over Arthur.  Not even the birds were awake. They’d been in this location for a few months now, ever since they escaped the snow and Pinkertons from the mountains.  Valentine was a charming little town, though it only felt temporary to Arthur.

The whole gang had been restless and uptight ever since the Blackwater incident.  They’d pick up Sadie Adler along the way, her husband recently murdered, and her a captive in her own home for who knows how long.  She was a bitter and angry lady. Downright depressed, of course. Arthur had been silently waiting for her to explode. He guessed this was the start of it.  

“This way,” Arthur said, motioning toward Valentine.  “I think she went into the town. Best we check the local bar.  You said she’d been drinkin’?”

Marth-Beth pulled down her blanket over her hair, blocking out the rain.  “She usually doesn’t, but, yes. Karen was only tryin’ to help but Sadie’s not a happy drunk like Karen, that’s for sure.”

“Perhaps a drink ain’t the answer she needs.”

“I don’t think so.”

Arthur could hear the tiredness in Mary-Beth’s voice.  He had always wondered why she’s stuck with the group, as her head was in the clouds most of the time, being a writer as well. Despite her reasonings, she had always pulled her weight.  She’d been with the gang through thick and thin the past few years - she was a con artist with her hands, a master thief of unrivaled skill.

“Hold up,” Arthur said, looking to the road in front of them.  He had been following a certain set of footsteps, easy to do when the road was a pile of mud.  The steps began to wander off the main road toward a small bridge. “This way.”

The two of them went off road and he heard Mary-Beth take a sharp intake of breath, and a second later he saw why.  He felt his stomach churn as he saw a form hanging from the underside of the bridge, arms spread apart, the head and legs missing.  Innards dripped from the torso to the ground and the smell was fresh. Very fresh. He motioned for Mary-Beth to move back as he stepped off his horse.  Even Ole’ Grumpy was unsettled by the smell.

He looked around for the missing limbs, seeing an endless amount of blood as if the limbs had been dragged and thrown around.  He avoided the hanging body, stepping around it while holding a hand to his face. Lord, it smelled.

“Arthur?” He looked up the bridge and saw Sadie standing behind a post, a paper in her hand, her face pale.

“Christ, Sadie, what are you doing here?” He said, moving to her side.  He noticed the poor man’s head by Sadie’s feet.

“I was… needin’ some air.  I came across him,” Sadie sputtered, her voice shaking. “This map was in the guy’s… mouth.”

“Whoever this sick creature is, we should get out of here.”  Arthur took off his jacket and placed it around Sadie’s shoulders; she was only dressed in her nightgown and looked ready to collapse.  “How drunk did you get to be wanderin’ around by yourself?” He led her toward the horses where Mary-Beth waited.

“I can take care of myself,” Sadie huffed, though her words were slightly slurred.  “And it’s not my fault he’s dead-”

“I know that-”

“-and if only Karen hadn’t challenged me to a drinking game, I’d be just fine!”

“Oh?  And who won that one?”

“I… don’t remember,” Sadie said with a concerned look.  

Mary-Beth stepped off her horse and hurried over.  “Oh, Sadie! I was so worried.” She grasped the woman in a tight hug.  “I wasn’t too sure if you had run, or been kidnapped, or-”

“Thank you, Mary-Beth,” Sadie said, pulling out of the hug.  “I’d like to go back now.”

Arthur took that as his cue.  “Here we go.” He grabbed Sadie under the arms and lifted her to his horse, then quickly hopped on in front.  Once Mary-Beth was situated, the three of them headed back to camp, their mood somber.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Sadie choked into Arthur’s back as she held on.  Before Arthur could protest, he heard her hack and he tried not to flinch as he felt something land on his side and leg.  

“Oh my lord!” Mary-Beth said and reached out to catch Sadie as she began to slide.

“Shit,” Arthur cursed and quickly caught her.  As Sadie had been riding side saddle she was easy to pick up and swing to sit in front of him, awkward as it was.  She was out cold. “Let’s get back quick. Giddy-up!” Ole’ Grumpy, one of his fastest horses, didn’t let him down. Mary-Beth trailed behind him as they approached the camp.  

He stopped the horse and hopped off, letting Sadie dangle before he was able to lift her off.  Instead of taking her to the tent she shared with the other women, he took her to his tent, setting her down on the cot.  She was a taller woman, though thin in stature and easy to carry. Her dress was covered in vomit, as were his own pants and shirt.   

“Mary-Beth, would you mind cleanin’ her and gettin’ her settled in?” Arthur asked the young woman.  “I’ll go get cleaned up myself.”

“Of course,” Mary-Beth confirmed.  She ran off towards the wash bin, most likely to grab a clean bucket and rag.  

Arthur grabbed a change of clothing and headed to his horse, thinking he would head to the nearby river.  It was early enough there shouldn’t be any traffic and easy enough to find a secluded place to bathe. He usually spent the extra money and bathed in hotels when he could - the outlaw life did not allow a luxury such as a bath basin and privacy.  So he made sure to treasure those baths when he could.

Ten minutes later he had found a spot and bathed as fast as he could.  The water was biting cold, sending unbearable shivers up his legs. He rinsed out the clothing and set to drying and dressing himself.  He supposed he could spend an hour hunting; it’d had been a bit since he had brought a deer back to camp.

An hour later, the sun was rising, warming the hillside blissfully.  Arthur made it back to camp and unloaded the deer from his horse, careful not to get the blood on his fresh clothing.  He left it for Pearson by his wagon, not bothering to skin it. It didn’t have the best looking coat, but it was sufficient enough for food.

“Uncle Arthur!” Little Jack ran up to him, a wide smile on the child’s face.  He was up early, Arthur thought. Jack held a half eaten piece of a chocolate bar in his hand.  “I saved this for you!”

“Good mornin’ to you too!” Arthur laughed, grabbing the chocolate from him.  “What’s this for?”

The boy had chocolate smeared across one cheek.  “Mama said to give you somethin’ ‘cause you got me that book!”

“Why, thank you!” Arthur grabbed a hanky he kept in his pocket and wiped off Jack’s cheek who struggled against it. “You wanna stay clean else your mama is gonna get angry with you.”

Jack stuck a tongue out at him, broke away and ran off, giggling as he did so.  Arthur had only managed to wipe half the chocolate off. “Hey, let’s go fishin’ again sometime, Jack!” Arthur called out after him.

“Okay!”

Arthur chuckled to himself as he went to the campfire, intending to get coffee.  It was still early and people were mostly still asleep, though Mrs. Grimshaw was beginning her usual set of chores.  He noticed Mary-Beth still sitting by Sadie’s side and changed course.

“Mary-Beth,” Arthur said quietly as he put a hand on her shoulder.  She was sitting in a chair, falling asleep, her head rolling to one side.  “You head off to bed now, okay? You took good care of Sadie. Get some sleep before the camp completely wakes up.”

Mary-Beth blinked blearily in affirmation and made her way to her own tent.  Arthur gave one more look over Sadie - a bit pale, but cleaned and resting peacefully - and went to grab his coffee.  He said a few greetings to Charles, grabbed his coffee, then settled down in the chair at his tent. He took the quiet time to write in his journal, documenting the body they had found near Valentine.  

His thoughts were interrupted by loud voices belonging to John and Abigail.  With a sigh he set aside his journal and his nearly empty coffee cup, and made his way towards the commotion.  

John stood in front of his tent, his scarred face angry.  It had been several months since John had suffered a wolf attack, leaving his face injured. It was nearly healed over, save for some lingering redness around the marks.  

John’s face darkened even more once he saw Arthur.  “And here he is! The man himself! The hero!”

“What’s gettin’ you all uptight?” Arthur demanded at the surprising attitude.  He saw Abigail sitting inside their tent, her face buried in her hands.

John stormed up to him.  “Talkin’ about you, endangering my son-”

“The Pinkerton?”

“-Taking my son on a fishing trip-”

Arthur stood up taller, clenching his fists, trying to quell his anger.  “You haven’t been there for him-”

“He’s _my_ son!  Not yours!  You want to know what Jack said to Abigail last night?” John looked to his wife and to Arthur, his face desperate.  “He wished _you_ were his daddy.  Not me.”

Arthur took a deep breath, not knowing how to respond, but the anger kept rising in him.  He took another deep breath before he spoke. “How come you care now, John?”

John’s dark eyes flashed.   “I’m here now, ain’t I?”

“You were gone for a year!” Arthur roared.  He pointed a finger at the man. “A year! We didn’t know if you was comin’ back!  And why the sudden change of heart?” Arthur took a step back and crossed his arms. “You refused to say he was your son for the longest time.”

The smaller man bit his lip.  “I’m tryin’ to change that.”

By now, the camp had woken up and all eyes were on them.  But Arthur wasn’t done with him. “You want to know somethin’, John?” he asked, his tone quiet but heated.  “I was gonna marry Abigail. We talked about it while you was gone, because I was more a daddy than you ever was!”

“You were no better than I was!  Look at Eliza and Isaac-” John halted as Arthur blindly unleashed a fist against his face, sending John sprawling to the ground.  

Someone was holding him back, holding his clenched fist away from John.  He shrugged them off. He stood over John, who held his cheek as he lay on the ground, guilt written all over his face  “Abigail still chose you,” Arthur spat. “Jack needs time to get to know you. Instead of sayin’ you’re his father, act like it.”  He turned on his heel and stomped off, ignoring Hosea who followed him. He took notice of Dutch standing a bit of a distance away, a cigar in his hand.  He looked upset. Arthur didn’t care at that moment. He stopped by his tent - Sadie had woken and left during the fight - and began pulling together his pack.  

“Where are you going?” Hosea asked.  

“Huntin.”

Hosea nodded after a moment of watching Arthur throw his clothing into his pack.  “Take care, son.” Hosea knew better than to argue with Arthur when he was angry. He patted Arthur on the shoulder and walked away.  

Arthur was fuming inside.  He hadn’t thought of Eliza and Isaac in years, or at least he hadn’t tried to.  Not everyone knew the story about them - Arthur had only entrusted it to several people.  John had been one of them and he had turned around and blurted it out -

Arthur huffed, pausing his flurry of packing.  He would be level headed about this. He had to be if he wanted to be smart about it.

A paper on his table caught his eye and he opened it slowly.  It was the piece of the map they had pulled from the head this morning.  There. Something to do. He could hunt for this place - he swore it looked familiar - and he would find what the map was leading to. He stuffed the map in his satchel.  He headed out into the forest, taking one last look at the group. Everybody moved around slowly, trying to keep their eyes on themselves.

It wasn’t news that Arthur and John had fought.  Ever since John had left, Arthur had been struggling to forgive him.  And this fight had pushed it.

He whistled for his horse to follow.  Ole’ Grumpy was still saddled and ready to go, neighing happily as she reached his side.  He patted her head lovinging and got on. He traveled to the main road without much thought, headed toward the town of Strawberry.  It was the only place he could think of to start his search.

An hour after traveling, he heard a horse gallop up behind him and slow down.  He stopped his horse.

“Arthur,” Sadie greeted him.  She had her blond hair tied back, and rather than her usual clothing, she was dressed in a yellow cotton shirt and dark brown pants.  The shirt was large and loose on her, as were the pants, which were held up by suspenders. Her face was grim and ghostly pale.

“Mrs. Adler.”  Arthur lightly clicked his tongue to let Ole’ Grumpy know to start moving again.  

“I wanna go with you.  I saw you eyein’ that map.”

Arthur had been smoking a cigarette when she approached.  He took a long drag and flicked the cigarette butt away, blowing out the smoke slowly. “I’m in a sour mood, I’ll have you know.”

“I understand.  Let me come.”

“How are you not hungover?” Arthur shook his head.  “You were only just pukin’ your guts out this mornin’!  On me! And Ole’ Grumpy here.”

“Oh I am sufferin’ the biggest headache right now.”  Sadie pulled her hat farther down. “I need a breather, Arthur.  You keep to yourself, I keep to myself. We both have demons to deal with right now, I feel.”

“Fair point, Mrs. Adler.  Off we go, then.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

\--Chapter Two--

The rain wasn’t being kind to them as they traveled west to Strawberry.  It was only half a day’s ride, so Arthur didn’t mind too much, though he’d rather not have to worry about dealing with wet clothing.  Occasionally he shook off his hat as water collected around the brim. He could see Sadie do the same, scowling as she did so.

They didn’t speak much.  They had to stop once along the way so Sadie could clear her stomach, then they continued on.  She refused to take a break, saying it would pass.

Once the rain trickled off to a drizzle and they were halfway to their destination, Arthur reached into his pack and grabbed some small candies.  He offered some to Sadie, who refused, her face still a little pale.

“You know, Lenny and I went out drinkin’ last week,” Arthur started, popping a small candy in his mouth.  The salted coated peanuts were one of his favorites and he savored the taste.

“I heard.”

“I wound up in the middle of nowhere.  Don’t know how I got there. I think we was tryin’ to escape the law or somethin’?  I don’t know. Lenny was a hard man to find during the whole thing.” Arthur chuckled.  “I am pretty sure I walked in on him, too, with a lady, though it’s a little fuzzy.”

Sadie smiled softly.  “I can’t imagine he was happy about that.”

“Possibly.  Anyways - I hadn’t had a night like that in years.  Woke up with the nastiest headache. I couldn’t move for a whole day.  So, the point of this: you seem to be doin’ pretty well, despite the… situation, you had yourself in.”

“I don’t drink usually,” Sadie said.  “My husband and I weren’t drinkers.”

“What made you decide to drink?”

Sadie scoffed.  “Karen. She and her big mouth.  She thought it’d help, I suppose, but all I got out of it was this nasty headache.”

“Help with what?”

“Forgettin’.  Everything that happened.”

Arthur munched on a candy thoughtfully.  He knew exactly what Sadie was going through. Losing a loved one.  He didn’t know how much she wanted advice at the moment, but he felt like he had to say something.  He let out a long sigh as he reached into his breast pocket and pulled out his packet of cigarettes.  It was something she needed to hear, sooner or later. She grabbed the cigarette he offered and they continued in silence.

“It doesn’t help,” Arthur said after a bit, letting out a small cloud of smoke.  “The drinkin’. It doesn’t help you forget. Believe me, I tried. You must’ve heard what John said…”

“I couldn’t help but overhear.  The whole camp was watchin’ you two.”

“I lost two important people of my life.  I resorted to a life of drinkin’ and gamblin’, for a bit.  Hosea and even John helped pull me out. But I’ll never forget who I lost, no matter how hard I tried,” Arthur mused, taking a long drag of his cigarette.  

“I won’t, either,” Sadie agreed and frowned.  “Sorry you had to bring up these memories.”

“I’m sorry about what happened to you.  I’m glad you’re taggin’ along, though.”

“It’s good to have some purpose again.  Though Pearson is annoyin’ me somethin’ awful…”

Arthur laughed softly.  “Don’t mind him.”

“So what’s the map look like again?” Sadie said, changing the subject which Arthur was grateful for.

He dug into his pack and handed her the map.  “I think it’s outside Strawberry, somewhere. It looks familiar - I was out here savin’ Micah’s sorry ass.”

“I heard about it.  Sounded like a mess.”

“The bastard’s crazy.  I’ll keep a low profile and I should be fine,” Arthur shrugged.  

Thunder crackled ahead of them, causing them to start.  Ole’ Grumpy danced hesitantly on her feet - Arthur knew she didn’t like thunder and he always tended to make camp when it happened.  It was still mid-afternoon and he had wanted to cover more distance. The sky was covered in a blanket of dark clouds, threatening even more thunder and rain.  

“You wanna make camp?” Sadie questioned, noticing his horse’s temperament.  

“Nah,” Arthur said and petted his horse’s neck.  “We can continue on. She just won’t like it. There’s a path up here I wanted to take and check out the spot, maybe a mile away.”  He clicked his tongue and they were off, trotting down the path. The horse was anxious and picking up speed; Arthur would have to make sure to hitch her extra tight to a tree.  She’d run away in a heartbeat if the thunder got too loud.

“Shit,” he heard Sadie curse as the rain came down harder.  The wind had picked up as well, sending shivers through him.  Their day was not going so well, but he was determined to reach the path.  They could make camp there.

“This is it!” he yelled through the wind and rain about half an hour later, pointing to a path leading off the road.  He pushed his horse onward through the brush and Sadie followed suit. They broke through the thick brush and Arthur dismounted his horse.  He tied the reigns around a thick branch, then pulled his collar up around his neck. The wind was bone-chilling now.

“Arthur,” Sadie said, her voice tight.  “Look.”

He did and felt his heart drop.  The feeling in his gut had been right.  This was the proper location where the next body might be - the large rock displayed on the map was just ahead.  The harsh rain had rinsed away much of the blood, but the shredded limbs, fingers, and toes still scattered the area.  

Sadie moved ahead and Arthur followed closely. They rounded the corner to find a body displayed much in the same way as the one by Valentine; arms tied and pulled wide, head and lower half missing.  Written in white were the words, _DO YOU SEE?_

The head sat on a rock a few feet away, the next map sticking out of the hanging mouth.  Arthur pulled out the map gingerly; he already felt sick by the scene and didn’t want to touch anything to do with the body.  

“Poor bastard,” Sadie mentioned.  “Let’s leave. I don’t want to camp near this guy.”

Arthur stuck the map into his pack.  “I agree. Let’s head north and camp there - we’ll try to wait out the storm.”

Together they made their way back to their horses and set off, leaving behind the gruesome scene for someone else to find.  It had been recent - the body only a day or two cold. The killer would be on the move and Arthur was determined to stop it.  He wasn’t the law, but this sickened him. He would try to bring the dead people justice.

They made their way up a mountainside, following a narrow path.  Sadie was ahead, barely visible through the thick rain and fog. The weather had turned sour fast and Arthur was beginning to regret his choice of continuing on.  He was soaked through the bone and his horse had had it for the day.

Thunder clashed throughout the sky and lightning flashed in a brilliant stroke, hitting the tree right beside Arthur.  His horse reared, the fiery explosion at the tree spooking his horse to no end. Arthur yelled at Ole’ Grumpy, trying to get her to calm down, though it only seemed to make it worse.  She backed up and her foot stumbled, catching on a loose rock. Gravity overtook them both as her hoof slipped and the two of them fell backwards. Arthur clung for dear life as they fell, his back hitting the muddy hillside, his horse smacking down and landing harshly on his leg.  Arthur blindly pushed away, not wanting to be trampled by his own horse as they rolled down the hill.

He was tumbling suddenly, not knowing what direction was up.  Then he met air, flailed, and landed into biting cold water. He heard a splash not too far away and realized his horse had fallen as well.  He couldn’t help the horse in the moment; he had to focus on getting to shore. The current was strong, wanting to do nothing more than pull him down.  Arthur had always been a strong swimmer, though he could feel his strength sapping quickly as he was pushed downwards.

His back hit a rock and he was pinned for a moment.  At least his head was free; he sucked in gulps of air.  His feet barely touched the bottom of the river, and a secured branch stuck out just far enough for him to grab.  He reached for it and pulled himself up, grabbing another branch before finally taking a step out of the deep riverbank.  

There was nothing to do besides collapse when he set down on solid ground.  He took a few moments, rushes of wind and water filling his water clogged ears.  He pretty sure he heard Sadie say his name, though he was too tired to sit up.

A minute later and Sadie was at his side, helping him sit up.  “You scared the livin’ hell out of me, Arthur,” she chided him harshly.  

“Where’s Ole’ Grumpy,” Arthur weakly said, leaning against a tree stump.  “Is she okay?”

Sadie hesitated.  “I don’t know. Can you walk?”

“Nothin’ that won’t heal.”  Arthur tried to move the foot and a sharp pain traveled up his leg.  “And I’m bruised in places I don’t feel like mentionin’.” His head was beginning to clear and the roar in his ears had started fading as the adrenaline rush wore off.  “Help me up, will ya?”

Sadie grabbed him by the elbow and grunted under his weight, though he managed to stand, favoring his ankle.  He looked along the riverbank for his horse. The rain had faded, leaving a dense fog behind. About thirty feet away he could see his horse laying on the river bank, not moving.  

“Shit,” he spat and hobbled over, Sadie supporting him by his arm.  He dropped to his knees beside his horse and softly touched her head, already knowing he was too late.  Ole’ Grumpy had hit her head somewhere in the river, as a chunk of her head was covered in blood. Arthur lifted the horse’s head onto his lap.  She still had breath, though it was fading. He ran a hand down the horses head, patting her lovingly.

“Oh, girl.  You deserved better,” he said meekly.  “Hush, now.” A moment passed, Ole’ Grumpy’s chest moved once, then no more.

“Why are things goin’ so wrong?” Arthur asked Sadie, his voice cracking.  “Ever since Blackwater. We lost Mac. Jenny. We’re a family and we keep dyin’.”

“I don’t know.”  Sadie sat next to Arthur and put an arm around his shoulders.  “I’m so sorry, Arthur.”

Arthur looked at her, then at his horse.  There was nothing to do but move on. “Give me a minute, and we’ll find a place to make camp.”

* * *

They made camp half a mile away.  Arthur had carried his saddle and pack, numbly aware he would have to buy another horse the next day.  He could always catch one, though training took ages and he figured there wasn’t enough time. Dutch had plans in motion, and Arthur needed a horse he could depend on.

They weren’t too far from the stables at Strawberry.  Arthur had looked last time he was in town, and there had been a mare out of his price range.  If she was still available, he now had enough money to purchase her.

“Or you could steal her,” Sadie commented.  “You an outlaw, right?”

“There’s some things I steal, and some things I don’t.  A horse… sometimes,” Arthur admitted. He had before - and he’d lost a couple throughout the years.  Some to gunfights, and some to natural causes. At some points he just didn’t have the money to purchase a new one, so he stole one.  He’d been particularly close to Ole’ Grumpy. He had bought her months ago. She had been spunky, a bit skittish, and refused to budge if she was hungry.  Hence her name.

Arthur set up his tent and sat beside the campfire Sadie had built.  Earlier in the day Arthur had caught a turkey and tied it to his horse.  He was grateful it hadn’t been lost in the tumble. He worked on cutting the meat out and stuck it on the end of his knife.

“You don’t carry any sort of spice with you?” Sadie eyed him.  “No seasoning?”

“If I come across some, sure,” Arthur said.  He handed off the cooked meat to her, then grabbed another piece to cook.  “I’m afraid I recently ran out.”

“Thank you, though.”  Sadie sat next to him and took a bite of the bird.  

“So, we found the body,” Arthur began and pulled out the map from his pack.  He pressed it open. “I don’t know this place, do you?”

She shook her head.

“We’ll just have to keep an eye out for it.  It could be anywhere, though I suspect it’s not near here.  Obviously, the killer wants his work noticed. He might try to spread out his work.”

“What a sick bastard.”

Arthur put the map away and took a bite of his meal.  “Couldn’t agree more.”

“So what’s the plan for tomorrow then?”

“Buy a horse first thing in the mornin’, and then we go huntin’ and return to Valentine.  Do you know how to hunt?”

“Of course,” Sadie huffed.  “Me and my husband did everythin’.  We shared our chores. We couldn’t have survived up there if we didn’t keep smart about things.”  She wiped the knife on a patch of grass, then handed it back to Arthur. “You don’t mind if I tag along with you every now and then?  It gets so dull back at camp.”

“I don’t mind.  Let’s get some shut eye, Mrs. Adler.  I’m ready to put this day behind me.”

* * *

Arthur admired the horse from afar.  It was a beautiful golden roan mustang, medium in size and a wild look to it with it’s black hair long and unkempt.  He was tied to a fence post just outside the horse stable and clicked his hoof angrily against the ground. The stable was large and had a fenced in area where a couple more horses roamed.  

Arthur had told himself to buy a well seasoned horse, but this particular horse stood out to him.  He might be worth the hassle.

“He’s a recent catch,” Arthur whispered to Sadie as they hid behind a tree scouting out the area.  “He’s unsettled - maybe been ridden only a few times. I betcha anything the man would try to sell it with papers.  Mind checkin’ it out for me?”

“Oh, sure,” Sadie whispered back.  She headed off to the stable, patting down her hair and pants.  She had changed clothing to dark pants and a white shirt, her other clothes soaked clean through. Arthur’s own clothing was still soaked, though he had spare clothing that had survived the rain.  

He scratched his scraggly beard as he waited for Sadie to return.  It only took a few moments before she was back, brows furrowed. “He claims he has papers, all right,” she said.  “He was happy to sell the horse to me for a hundred bucks.”

“Christ.”  Arthur reached into his inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out his necktie.  “You ever steal anythin’ before, Sadie?”

“My husband’s shirts and pants, maybe.  His socks, too. He got tired of that, though, so he eventually bought me my own set.”

Arthur peered at her and laughed.  “Okay. Go hide back there and I’ll pick you up when I’m done.”  He tied the black cloth around his neck and lifted it over his face, then made sure his hat was pulled low.

“I could help,” Sadie insisted.  

“He already saw your face,” Arthur said, shaking his head.  “Let’s play it safe. This’ll be easy and fast.”

Sadie crossed her arms.  “Fine. See you soon, then.”  She backed up and hid herself further into the brush.   

Arthur already knew it was going to be a simple task.  He had counted maybe four or five people by the stable.  One was carrying hay bales back and forth between the barn and a wagon, another was scooping horse droppings in the barn itself, while another was giving a horse a brush out in the fenced area.  The main stable head was moving about randomly. Nobody was keeping eyes on the mustang. All Arthur had to do was wait for the man with the hay bales to walk into the barn.

He began sneaking up, his hands ready to draw his gun if he needed to.  He wouldn’t purposely try to kill anyone, just more or less shoot near them to scare them off.  Ever since Arthur had had to go with Micah through Strawberry, killing people just to survive the day, Arthur hadn’t had much of a taste for bloodshed.  He had let Micah do most of the killing, but Arthur had needed to defend himself and had taken a few lives.

Micah had laughed it off.  It had made Arthur sick to his stomach.

He wasn’t going to repeat the same thing that day.  He waited for the right moment; all eyes were elsewhere.  He moved cautiously up to the horse who had noticed him. The horse made no sound, eyeing Arthur warily. It let Arthur approach.

“Hey, boah,” Arthur quietly said, patting the horse lightly.  It lifted it’s head proudly. The horse wasn’t scared, just tired of being tied up.  Arthur grabbed the rope and counted to three, then hopped on the horse.

The horse let him control him.  “Giddy-up,” Arthur said, digging his heels into the horse. The horse responded well and set off, setting a pace that took Arthur by surprise.  He was a fast horse, that’s for sure. Arthur was gone and away from the stable without anybody even noticing.

He let the horse ride hard for a few minutes before he turned back.  “Woah!” he said, the horse protesting. “Don’t worry boah, you’re doin’ just fine,” Arthur murmured to the horse, patting him affectionately.  

After a minute, the horse settled, and allowed Arthur to push him ahead.  Sadie was waiting impatiently. “No shootout? No fightin?” she questioned once she saw him.  “You stole him but there wasn’t a show!”

“That’s the whole point,” Arthur reasoned.  “You know you did a good job if nobody noticed.  It makes for a clean getaway.”

“I was hopin’ for some excitement.”

“Something tells me you’ll see excitement soon enough.  Come on, we’ll get you to your horse and head on home.”

The horse saw Sadie approached and took a step back, letting out a warning neigh.  Sadie stopped and held her hands to her chest. “I don’t think he likes me.”

“It’s okay, boah,” Arthur said.  “She’s friendly.”

Sadie held out her hand, moving slowly toward the horse.  When the horse didn’t lash out, she petted it on the side of the head.  “There we go,” she smiled. “You’re a handsome feller, ain’t ya?”

Arthur helped her onto the horse and they headed off to where her horse had been hitched.  Arthur saddled up his new horse, who only protested a little but responded well to a carrot.

“This is a pretty area,” Sadie commented once the two of them were on their way.  “I can see why Strawberry is tryin’ to grow.”

“This place is full of peculiar folks.”  Arthur reached into his satchel and pulled out his journal.  He flipped to a certain page and showed Sadie. “There’s a man I met out here, not too far from Strawberry.  Strange man called Francis Sinclair. He wanted me to find these rock carvings - I actually managed to find one or two, so far.”

Sadie snorted.  “So you’re doing what a random man tells you to?”

“He said he’ll pay.  That’s all that matters.  Still, the way he spoke - couldn’t understand half of it.  Must’ve been from the city, or somethin’.”

“Well, I’ll help point out a random carving if I find one.”

“I’d appreciate it.”

Sadie shot a rabbit along the way.  As Arthur had brought a deer to the camp yesterday, they determined they were fine on meat, and ended up shooting only one more rabbit.  When the sun was high in the sky and the rain dried up, they reached the main road which led to Valentine. The road was half-dry with soaked in trails of wagons and horses.  They were going to bypass the town when they heard shots and people screaming. Several people could be heard arguing further into Valentine. Arthur would have left, then he spotted a familiar white horse.  It was Dutch’s.

“Sadie, head home,” Arthur demanded.  “Make sure everyone is safe there.”

“But Arthur-”

“Go!” Arthur left her and got off his horse, grabbing his main rifle.  He used the scope to view ahead; John and Strauss were on their knees with knives to their heads.  His heart sank, but he realized it was a standoff. Dutch must still be in the building. Arthur navigated closer, keeping his head down.  Everybody in Valentine had resorted to hiding in buildings, not wanting to get caught up in the mess. He could barely hear what the men were saying.  

Dutch now stood with his hands up outside, using his words to make time.  It was enough for Arthur. He leveled his rifle at the man who held John, took a deep breath, and pulled the trigger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

\--Chapter Three--

It was blazing hot and humid.  Sweat dripped down Arthur’s forehead as he sat on an abandoned dock, dangling his feet into the water.  The sun was setting, casting an orange hue over the lake, the last of the mosquitoes buzzing about. The camp was behind him, intent on getting the place set up and finalized.  The smell of Pearson’s stew filled the camp and Arthur’s stomach growled in response.

Arthur was taking a breather, having finished helping with the camp chores.  It had been a fast few days. After the mess with Cornwall in Valentine, the gang had packed up and left as fast as they could.  With some luck, Arthur and Charles had found this place. It was secluded, hidden by trees, yet refreshing as it sat along a lake.  Nobody would see them unless they were on a boat. The only downside was the humidity and the bugs. Lord, Arthur hated the bugs.

He had shown up in the nick of time in Valentine.  Dutch had been outnumbered. John and Strauss would have been a thing of the past if Arthur hadn’t managed to show up.  He had managed to take the group by surprise and hold them off while everyone escaped. But it was too much action for the gang, forcing them to relocate where they’d be harder to find.

So they had run.  Again. Arthur couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept in a real bed for more than a week - his cot didn’t count.  His body was plain tired, as were the others of the gang. Everyone had a short fuse. This was why Arthur had been spending so much time outside of camp.  He could be his own man and not have to answer to anybody else. Sure, Arthur still donated money and made sure the camp was situated, but he preferred to keep his company outside of camp.  

“Mr. Morgan!” Ms. Grimshaw said, meeting him on the broken dock.  

He nodded his head in greeting.  “What can I do for you, Ms. Grimshaw?”

“I sent Mrs. Adler on a supply run, but after she went gun crazy after the run in with the Raiders, I fear a bit for her life,” Ms. Grimshaw said, her lips drawn in a thin line.  “She’s a bloodthirsty one, that Mrs. Adler.”

“She handled herself just fine yesterday,” Arthur shrugged.  He and Sadie had retrieved supplies for Pearson, only to be caught by Lemoyne Raiders.  Sadie had held her own - it was clear she knew her way around a gun. She had proved herself capable in every way.

“I want you to go after her,” Ms. Grimshaw deemed.  “And bring her back in one piece.”

Arthur looked back to the water.  He knew the moment would be over too soon. “Did she head to Rhodes?”

“Yes.  Getting some new fabric for the girls.”

The tall man stood up, wiping his bare feet on the wood.  “I’ll head out in a minute, I have to get Roy saddled.”

Ms. Grimshaw looked pleased with a smirk on her face.

He didn’t like that smirk.  “What are you up to?”

“Why, Arthur,” Ms. Grimshaw drawled out.  “Why would you think that?”

“You know perfectly well Sadie is just fine handlin’ herself,” Arthur accused.  “What’s this about?”

“I want you to show her a nice time, Arthur.  You’re the only one who I could trust with the job.  Sadie likes you. Show her the side of you nobody gets to see round here.”

Arthur could feel his face reddening.  “What - you’re implying - she’s a widow, Ms. Grimshaw.  Her husband passed just months ago.”

“She’s a stick in the mud,” Ms. Grimshaw sneered.  “She’s grumpy, angry, and a hassle to get workin’ on things.  If she wants to be a part of this gang she has to come to terms with herself.  Show her a good time, Arthur. Make her forget her husband.”

“She’s a fine lady, but I-” Arthur sputtered.  Ms. Grimshaw turned on her heel and walked away.  Arthur debated for a few moments. “Fine! I’ll do what you say but nothin’ will come of this!”

“Good boy!” Ms. Grimshaw called over her shoulder.

“Tsk,” Arthur spat and pulled on his socks and boots.  Leave it to Ms. Grimshaw to be planning something she shouldn’t be.  She was an older lady with a rigid backbone; she had an order to things.  The sudden addition of Sadie hadn’t been one of them. Arthur didn’t know what he could do.

“You remember how to pleasure a woman?” Karen asked him in a low voice as he was getting Roy ready.  He was only a week new, but a wonderful horse so far. Arthur had had no complaints about him. Karen petted Roy’s head and blinked at Arthur coyly.

Arthur glared at her.  “I see Ms. Grimshaw’s been flappin’ that mouth of hers.”

“I overheard, I admit.”  Karen tilted her head. “Who’d have thought it’d be Mrs. Adler you’d choose to tussle around with.”

“I haven’t - Christ, Karen, this isn’t what this is about.”  Arthur tightened the saddle and shooed Karen to stay back. He hopped on and tipped his hat at her. “Have a good day, Ms. Jones.”

“Have fun!”

Have _fun._   Arthur cursed.  There wasn’t going to be anything fun about this. Sadie still needed time to recover.  She was so bitter that Arthur didn’t think he could help. Arthur himself hadn’t tried to pursue anybody in the longest time.  Hell, he had pretty much stopped after Mary and Eliza. Even though Mary had randomly shown up a couple months ago, nothing had come from that.  And nothing ever will.

Sadie was a pretty woman, Arthur could see that.  He considered themselves friends, but he realized he had jumped awfully fast at the opportunity once Ms. Grimshaw had presented it.  Christ, he needed to get out more.

Arthur was lost in his thoughts when he approached Rhodes, keeping an eye out for Sadie’s horse.  Why was he suddenly nervous? He was a grown man, for god’s sake. He had done this before. _Done what, exactly?_ He wondered.  What was he going to do now?

Act natural, he supposed.  Sadie’s horse was hitched by the general store.  He hitched Roy and slowly walked into the store, finding Sadie staring at an array of different candies.  She was dressed in her pants and yellow shirt with her hair pulled back in a loose braid. Different from how other women dressed, but Arthur thought it suited her.  

She looked up when he walked in, surprise on her face.  “Arthur! What brings you here?”

“I-” Arthur stuttered.  He coughed, cleared his throat, and continued.   _What’s wrong with you, Morgan?_  “Saw your horse, Mrs. Adler.  Thought I’d stop by and see what you’re up to.”

Sadie pointed to the candies.  “I’ve been craving the candies you had.  Were these it?”

“Sure.  This chocolate bar here is good, too.” Arthur walked up beside her and handed her a chocolate bar.  “Though I admit it’s easier to melt. The one in my pack melted only just yesterday. It was a mess.”

Sadie chuckled.  “In that case, I’ll take these candies.  The gentleman here was just grabbing some fabric from the back.”

As if on cue, the storekeeper walked through, bolts of fabric in his arms.  He set them down on the counter. “Here they are!”

Arthur walked up and grabbed the bolts of fabric.  “Thank you, sir.” He handed the man some coins. “For the candies the lady has.”

The storekeeper eyed her up and down.  Sadie stood at the other end of the store, admiring something else.  “If you ask me,” the storekeeper said in a hushed town. “Ladies shouldn’t be wearin’ that outfit.  It’s too different.”

Arthur looked around, eyebrows lifted.  “And who asked you? You been with many ladies have you?”

The shopkeeper looked startled once he realized he wasn’t in similar company.  “I’ve had quite - none right now - I’ve had my fair share.”

“Sure,” Arthur leaned on the counter casually, enjoying seeing the man squirm.  He looked over to the tall woman. “Sure. Hey Sadie - this man here don’t like how you look.”

Sadie’s brown eyes flashed and she stomped over.  “Well you tell the bastard-”

“Who’s standing right here and can hear you-” Arthur pointed out.

“-That he better get out of here before I shoot ‘im!”

The shopkeeper paled.  “I- I gotta go check-” he was out the back within a second, the door slamming shut behind him.

“Aw, the man didn’t mean it,” Arthur laughed.  At Sadie’s glare, he grabbed the bolts of fabric.  “After you, my lady.”

The two of them headed out and tied the bolts to the back of Sadie’s horse, who turned to Arthur.  “Well, that about does it. I wonder why Ms. Grimshaw was so desperate for these bolts. We don’t have much that needs repairin’.”  

“Say, Sadie,” Arthur said, suddenly reminding why he was there.  And why he had even agreed to this. “The saloon here offers a great fried catfish dinner - think you’d take a break before headin’ back?  Ms. Grimshaw could wait.”

She looked hesitant, her freckled nose scrunching up.  “Naw, I’m on watch duty tonight.”

“Karen said she was gonna be,” Arthur quickly said.  “That’s where I left her, anyhow.”

Sadie eyed him suspiciously.  “You desperate for company, Morgan?”

 _Too fast too much._  “My apologies, Mrs. Adler, just bein’ friendly.  Ma’am.” He began walking towards the saloon, cursing how foolish he had been.  He hadn’t put enough thought into this, it was too soon for the both of them-

He noticed Sadie walking besides him.  “You know what, Morgan, I think a meal sounds just right.”

“Right, we can cut through here.”  Arthur motioned to a path past the gun shop.  “I stopped by here a few nights ago when I was checkin’ ahead and-” Arthur felt a hand on his ankle and he twisted away, hand on his holster.

“No no!” a voice whispered from the ground.  

“What the-” Arthur and Sadie kneeled close to the small barred window of the gunshop’s basement.  It lay close to the ground and two hands grasped the bars. There wasn’t much light. What little there was outlined a grown man, maybe mid-twenties, dressed in a child’s sailor outfit, his hair cut short and bobbed like a child’s.  His face was pale and his eyes wide.

“Mister, oh mister, you gotta help me,” he said.  “He’s got me locked up!”  
“Why are you dressed like that?” Arthur asked.

“This man, he did this!  He’s crazy! You gotta get me out of here!”

Sadie’s face had darkened.  She stood and marched to the front door.  Arthur followed with haste. It was a regular gunsmith shop - nothing was out of the ordinary.  Once they saw the shop was empty of customers, Sadie drew her gun and pointed it at the gunsmith.  “Open your basement!” she spat.

The man, an overweight middle aged man with a balding head, cried out and held his hands up.  “It’s just a basement!”

“Open it!”

Arthur drew his own gun, but held it at his side.  He didn’t want to risk any unnecessary shooting.

“Fine!  There’s nothing down there, just my boy, I’d hate to wake him,” the man went on, unlocking the side door which led downstairs.  They shuffled down slowly with the man in front, Sadie with the gun, and Arthur closing the door behind.

“Oh thank god!” the “boy” cried. He stood up and tried to walk forward, stumbling against a chain around his ankle.  He was surrounded by children’s toys and trinkets.

Arthur eyed the keys hanging from the heavy man’s waist.  “Hand them over!”

“It’s my boy!” the man refused.  

“He’s crazy!  He took me in here, dressed me like this.  I’m not your son!” the “boy” cried. “Please, mister, get this off me.”

Sadie held the gun to the man’s head, who cringed.  “Hand the mister here the keys. _Now_.”

The heavy man fumbled with his keys, tears running down his cheeks.  “You see, my boy, I lost him. Down a river.” He handed the keys to Arthur, who went to unlock the chain.  “You look just like him.”

“You’re sick,” the imprisoned man said.  “I can’t forgive you for this.”

“Did you do anything to him?” Sadie asked the gunsmith, her voice tight.  

The gunsmith shuddered.  “Do anything?”

“Did you _harm_ him?” Sadie shouted.

“No!  No!” the gunsmith shook his head feverently.  “I just dressed him up and kept him here!”

“Is this true?” Arthur asked the other man quietly.

He hesitated.  “Yes. But I still won’t forgive him.  Thank you mister, ma’am.” He ran upstairs and left them.  

Sadie looked the gunsmith up and down.  “I should kill you.”

“Sadie,” Arthur warned, putting a hand on her gun.  “This ain’t the time. We can’t punish him for this.  The boy is most likely headed to the sheriff’s office to explain.  We best get out of here.”

He could see the struggle on Sadie’s face.  By now, the gunsmith had fallen to the ground, shaking with sobs.  Arthur felt little pity for the man. Death made people do strange things - but this was pushing it too far.  

Sadie dropped the gun.  “Let’s get out of here.”  

The two of them left, continuing on to the saloon.  The sun had set, covering the town in a blanket of darkness.  “After that, I think I need a drink,” Sadie said once they were outside.

“You all recovered?”

“No, but I’m beginning to see why Karen keeps drinking.”

The saloon was on the edge of town, decorated nicely with a garden in front.  People lingered out on the patio, speaking in hushed tones, some laughing, oblivious to the world.  The two of them walked into the saloon. Eyes were on them, then quickly dismissed them. Men played a poker game and several groups stood around the room, chattering peacefully.  They wandered up to the bar and sat down where a waiter stood behind the bar cleaning a glass.

“I’ll have a beer and the lady will have...” Arthur started once he caught the attention of the waiter.

“I’ll have a beer as well,” Sadie finished.

“Oh, and the fried catfish meal, please.  For each of us.” Arthur sat patiently, not quite knowing what to say once the waiter walked away.  The beer was served to them in the next minute and he took a long drink.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you drink much around camp,” Sadie commented after she took a sip.

Arthur admired the beer glass in his hand. “I usually don’t.  I leave the drinkin’ to Uncle. It felt good to let loose once we got Sean back.  That was a good night.”

“I don’t think I partook much,” Sadie shrugged.  “I was still pretty miserable. Still am.”

“What’s going to make you unmiserable?”

“Colm O’Driscoll’s head on a pike,” Sadie responded, straightfaced.

Arthur laughed, then stopped once he saw her face.  “Oh, you’re serious.”

“I am.  He ruined my life, Arthur.”

“I understand.”

“I do owe my life to you guys, though.  It’s partly why I stick to you. That, and I can get my revenge easier this way.”

Arthur reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette.  “We ain’t in the revenge business, Mrs. Adler.”

“Please, call me Sadie and only Sadie.”  She reached over and grabbed a cigarette from him.

“Of course.”

The two of them smoked in silence.  A lady dressed in a low cut dress and tight blond curls brushed by Arthur’s back a little too closely.  He turned, noticing she went to sit two stools away, facing him. She blew a kiss at him as she leaned forward, displaying her breasts.  He turned his eye, ignoring her and focused on his beer.

Sadie watched this with a smirk on her face.  “You surprise me, Arthur Morgan.”

“What?”

“I’ve seen the other men and how they act around women.  I know they’d jump at the chance to be with a pretty lady such as her.”  

“Not interested,” Arthur tapped his cigarette, dusting the ashes off.

“You scared?”

“Not scared, no.”

“Because?”

“Christ, woman,” Arthur said, shaking his head.  He frowned, feeling a sudden twinge.

Sadie took the hint. “I’m sorry, Arthur, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“It’s fine.  Maybe I am scared.  I don’t know.” Arthur leaned back as the waiter brought them their food, steaming and looking delicious.  He inhaled the scent as he grabbed a fork; he had been hungry ever since he had smelled Pearson’s stew. He took a bite and savoured the taste.

“We move around too much,” Arthur said after a few bites.  “We haven’t been in one place, and it’d just be a mess gettin’ involved with someone outside of our gang.”

“What about Mary-Beth?  She stares at you with those _puppy dog_ eyes.”

“She does not,” Arthur laughed.  He was beginning to realize they were getting off track.  Ms. Grimshaw wouldn’t be pleased. “We’re similar, me and her.  We both keep journals, share a love for writin’... but I don’t know.  Mary-Beth ain’t innocent, but I feel like I’m too much of a bad guy for her, you know?  She has more of a future ahead of her than I do, that’s for sure. She’s smart. Pretty.  She’ll find her place... but not with me.”

Sadie patted her mouth a napkin.  “I still don’t see why you think that, but okay.  That’s fine.”

Arthur wanted to say something more but held his tongue.  He stared at the freckles on Sadie’s face and realized how pretty they made her. She had one small scar on her face and wondered how she had gotten it. He wasn’t too sure why he had agreed to do this or what exactly he had agreed to.  It was something out of the ordinary. It had been awhile since he had sat down with someone for a pleasant dinner. There were no mosquitoes or campfire nearby, no singing or drunken Uncle serenading them. It was nice.

She was fierce, dependent, and knew her way around a gun.  Enough to make any man nervous.

It reminded him of his time with Mary.  They had gone to many a place like this and sat down meals, but then he’d go off running once Dutch had needed him for a job.  Mary had gotten tired of him running off. She hadn’t liked his way of life. Sadie had embraced it, and then some. Mary hadn’t been able to do that.

“You keep starin’,” Sadie was saying, bringing him out of his reverie.

“Sorry,” he coughed and looked down at his plate.  “I was admirin’ your freckles, and then I thought how nice it was to not be eaten alive when eatin’ dinner.”

“I agree,” Sadie nodded, flushing a small bit.  “Admirin’ my freckles, eh? Wishin’ you had some of your own?”  
“No, no.  They suit you better.  Much prettier.”

Sadie didn’t look at him, just played absently with her food.  “I know what you’re up to.”

Arthur’s heart sank.  “You do?”

“Ms. Grimshaw and Karen were talkin’.  I heard about it. You don’t have to woo me, Arthur.  I can’t, not right now. Though, _woo_ was not the term they used.”

“Well.”  Arthur scratched his beard, not quite knowing what to say.  “To be honest, Ms. Grimshaw picked the wrong person for this.  It’s been awhile since I tried to court a lady and well. You’re pretty.  I dunno. It felt like something different to do.”

“Something different to do?” Sadie eyed him, her mouth set in a grimace.  

“It was good,” Arthur reassured her.  “You’re a fine lady. But I respect you and your time to… heal.”

“... Thank you.”

Inwardly Arthur was cursing himself a thousand times over.  Was he sweating? He was sweating. He grabbed the front of his shirt and shook it lightly.  This was a time where he had done something before thinking first. Hosea always told him to use his head.  But no. Arthur hadn’t, only chosen to follow his lonely heart.

“I think I should be gettin’ back,” Sadie said and stood up, flicking her braid behind her shoulder.

“I think I’ll stay here, have another beer,” Arthur said meekly.  

“All right.  You take care, Arthur Morgan.  Come visit us soon,” Sadie said.  She leaned down and kissed him lightly on the cheek, her lips soft and inviting.  Then she walked away.

Arthur nodded briskly and waved for the waiter.  “Another drink, please. Whiskey. Make it a double.”  

Shit.  It’d been a long time since a woman had made him nervous like that.  He downed the whiskey, glared at the busty woman still goggling him, and left the saloon.  He’d go do what Dutch had asked of him. Visiting the Grey manor. It’d take his mind off things.  Maybe he’d make camp nearby and do it in the morning.

He paused by the saloon door.  Here he was again. Following what Dutch wanted.  Letting a woman walk out on him so Arthur could make Dutch proud.

Life was the same, as usual.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to read a review! Don't by shy. :)


	4. Chapter 4

The campfire crackled and spewed a few sparks.  Arthur waved them away as he sat by the fire, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders.  He was farther up north where the weather was colder at night, a blissful change from the humidity down south where the gang was currently staying.  His new horse Roy was grazing peacefully nearby, his only company for the past few days. 

It was nearly time for Arthur to return back to the gang.  It had been a few weeks of him running the odd jobs here and there such helping the gang rob a bank or a stagecoach.  After the mess Uncle created - mistaking robbing Leviticus Cornwall  _ again _ \- Arthur was hesitant to do anything that might risk involving Cornwall.  

He had decided to take a few days to himself, so he had left the camp early one morning before anyone was awake.  He had been catching Sadie watching him as he had did chores about the camp, and realized he too had been caught staring.  The few days he was taking to himself was partly to avoid her. He didn’t know if it was smart to pursue a relationship with her, as she was so bent on revenge and Arthur clearly was not.  Still, the lady continued to impress him. One of these days he’d actually work up the nerve to pursue her. Not anytime soon.

Arthur pulled out his journal and flicked open to the latest entry.  It was a half finished sketch of a wall carving he had found. Francis Sinclair would be happy to know about them, though Arthur had only found a few.  It was pure luck, really. The carvings were away from any known path and hidden. 

It was almost a sign, Arthur felt.  He shouldn’t be having this luck finding the carvings, yet he was.  He couldn’t explain it. 

His pencil was dull and he was in great need of a few one, but he figured he could finish the drawing before it was completely gone.  He started humming as he filled in the drawing, eyeing the carving near him. It had been near dark when he had stumbled upon it, so he had made camp, cooked a meal, and taken his time to draw the carving.

“Arthur?  Arthur Morgan, is that you?” 

Arthur had been so involved in his drawing that he jumped a little.  He turned around and caught sight of the familiar face. “Well, if it isn’t Albert Mason.  What are you doing up here?”

“Why!  Capturing more photographs, if you must know!” Albert Mason hopped off his horse and tethered him to a nearby tree.  “Would you care for some company tonight, Mr. Morgan?”

Arthur motioned to a spot near him.  “I wouldn’t mind. You want something to eat?  I have some extra meat, here.”

Albert sat down on the rock near him.  He was dressed for warmer climates, with his beard a little longer than usual.  “That would be delightful. Thank you.”

As Arthur began to prep the meat, Albert spied his open journal.  “Are you an artist? Can I see?”

With a little bit of hesitation, Arthur nodded.  “Don’t go readin’ too intense, now.”

“Don’t worry.  I will respect your privacy.”  Albert grabbed the journal and flicked through it, smiling curiously at it.  “You have some wonderful sketches. Have you tried to do anything more with it?”

“Nah.  That’s about the extent of my skill, I’m afraid.”

Albert shut the journal and handed it back.  He took off his gloves and warmed his hands by the fire.  “If you think about it, I wouldn’t be here if it hadn’t been for you.”

The last time the two had met, Albert had taken a tumble off a cliff, only to be pulled back up by Arthur.  He had only fallen because Arthur had approached him, though Albert probably would have fallen at some point anyways.  He was a klutz.

“Glad I was there,” Arthur said, leaning over to sprinkle a bit of salt on the meat.  A silence crept over the two of them as he continued cooking. Arthur was tempted to ask something, wondering if Albert Mason would have some outsider insight. “You have a family back home?”

The smaller man snorted.  “If my mother and father count, sure.  But I’ve been too busy chasing photography to have a wife or a relationship, for that matter.  What about you, Mr. Morgan?”

“No family,” Arthur shrugged.  He flipped over the sizzling steak with his knife.  “Been thinkin’ if it was time for me to settle down.  But life don’t allow that easily. Always on the go - we ain’t ever in one spot for long.  Not anymore.”

“The thing I ask myself: am I happy with my work?  Yes,” Albert affirmed. “Do I want to keep doing what I’m doing?  Yes. At least for a few more years. Granted, I may not always have you to save my life - but I enjoy what I’m doing.  Not ready for roots, not at all. Are you happy, then, being on the go?”

Arthur kept staring into the fire.  “Used to be.”

“I sense you are a bit conflicted.”

“Maybe.  I am tired, I won’t lie.  Tired of bein’ disappointed and tired of not knowin’ which direction to go.  I’m a loyal man to my… friends. They need my support.” He grabbed an extra knife and stabbed the steak, then handed it to Albert who nodded his thanks.  

“They tried to set me up with someone,” Arthur mumbled, absently playing with the grass beside him.  “But she’s hellbent on fightin’. If I were to pursue her, I’d be goin’ along with her, fightin’ for… I don’t know what.”

“Sounds to me… you’re beginning to realize you’re not happy.  Change can only happen if you step up, Mr. Morgan. If these people are your friends, they’ll understand.”

A small pit of despair began to settle in Arthur’s stomach.  “He - Dutch - preaches of loyalty. How can I be loyal if I desert them?  But I don’t agree with where he’s headed?”

Albert frowned at him.  “I don’t have answers for you, but all I can tell you - make a move, Arthur.  Do something about this, else you’re not going to end up anywhere. If you want to settle down, settle.  Move away. Food for thought, at least.”

It was.  Arthur looked down at his hands, now dirty from playing with the grass.  “Thank you, Mr. Mason. I’ll think about it.”

“Here.”  Albert reached over and handed Arthur several photographs.  “Have some more - and make sure to visit the gallery in St. Denis, when you have the time.  They’ve agreed to display some of my work there.”

One of the photographs was of Arthur, where he was dressed in his hunting gear, looking off into the distance.  He looked unhappy in the picture - a frown on his face, his shoulders slumped in almost defeat. Tired. He looked tired.

Albert stood and dusted off his clothing.  “I can tell you’re a good man. That man in the picture is who you are now.  Let’s meet when you’ve managed to change, and I’ll take another picture. You’ll see the difference.  Trust me. Now, I’ll set up camp - I have to leave early if I want to capture the elk in all their glory.”

* * *

It was near evening when Arthur reached the camp the next day.  The gang finished their last minute chores before gathering around the meal Pearson had prepared.  Arthur hitched his horse and began unloading the deer he had shot, intending to leave it for Pearson to cook up.  

“I’ll walk it over,” Kieran Duffy said, showing up out of nowhere.  He grabbed the deer from Arthur and marched it over where Pearson stood ready with a butcher knife.  

Kieran had spent the last few months with the group, not officially part of the gang, but enough part to stick with them.  Arthur hadn’t felt sure of the boy at first, but he had saved Arthur’s life once when he didn’t have to. That kind of made Arthur indebted to him, which he didn’t like.

As Arthur began unsaddling his horse, Kieran wandered back over, a fishing pole in hand.  “Want to go fishin’, Arthur?” 

“Ain’t it a bit late, O’Driscoll?”

“I ain’t a O’Driscoll, and no it’s nearly the perfect time.  I know a place close by I had some luck at. You’re welcome to come.  My horse is ready to go.”

Arthur slowly began re-belting the saddle.  “I could use a distraction. Fine, O’Driscoll.  Lead the way.”

Kieran mumbled something in response, then hopped on his horse.  The two rode in silence for ten minutes, making their way through the forest to the lake.  The fading sun was about to settle behind the mountains as they reached their destination.

“Here we are,” Kieran said and jumped off his horse once they reached the lake.  Together the two of them made their way to the edge of the lake. There were two deer that scattered at the sight of them, silently disappearing back into the forest.  “I heard there’s a massive bluegill here in the lake. I was hopin’ between the two of us, we may catch it.”

“I ain’t very good at fishin’,” Arthur warned him.  He attached a lake lure he had gotten from somewhere in Lemoyne - a lady had been kind enough to sell it to him.  Despite not being very good, Arthur always wanted to be prepared. With a great sigh, he swung the fishing pole back and flung out the line with full force.  It landed a decent ways away.

“Good throw,” Kieran commented.  He had cast his own line a few feet away. 

“You wanna hear something awful?” Arthur asked him as he slowly drew back the line.  

“Sure.”

Arthur scratched his nose.  He hadn’t remembered this story in awhile, though he had always tried to forget it.  Kieran wouldn’t go telling anyone else, he was sure. “One time, I spent all day fishin’.  I came up with nothin’, but I had bragged about it to Hosea and Dutch beforehand. So of course, I didn’t wanna come back empty handed.  I went to the nearby shop and bought four beautiful fish, claimin’ I caught them.”

“How’d that go over?”

“Well.  Got a lotta praise, that’s for sure.  Well, we’re out shoppin’ the next day, and the godforsaken shopkeeper has the nerve to ask how the fish was.”

Kieran laughed quietly. 

“Christ, I got so much shit from Hosea and Dutch, it took months for it to die down.  It’s been over ten years - they haven’t brought it up in awhile.”

“Maybe in their old age, they’ve forgotten,” Kieran suggested.

“Hah!  Maybe. I doubt it,” Arthur said, reeling in the last of the line.  As he prepared to cast again he said, “They’ll bring it up eventually when they’ll feel the need to embarrass me.  I didn’t try to lie about much, after that. It all got discovered in the end whether you liked it or not.”

Kieran suddenly slapped his neck.  He grimaced at the splotch of blood on his hand.  “Only thing I hate about this place are the bugs. They’re awful.”

Arthur was busy waving away a mosquito of his own.  “You’re right about that.” A form in the water caught his eye and he smirked.  “Well, look at that.”

A middle aged man swam out in the lake, unabashedly unclothed.  He waved a hand at them. “Gentleman!” the man called out. “The water’s just fine.  You should join!”

“I think we’re just fine!” Arthur said.  Though, he had to admit, the man had a good idea.  It was near dark, the mosquitos would be out for a bit, and he hadn’t bathed in days.  Despite the sun setting, the air was humid, and his clothing still stuck to his skin.

The man soon swam away just out of sight once he realized he couldn’t get the two to join him.  Kieran lifted an eyebrow at Arthur. “I have some soap Mary-Beth gave me. It ain’t a bad idea. I can smell you from here, Mr. Morgan.  Mary-Beth would be ashamed.”

“Why, that’s just downright insultin’,” Arthur drawled.  He reeled in the fishing line and let out a long sigh. “But I can’t go scaring off the lady folk.  Ms. Grimshaw would have my hide… again.” He tossed aside his fishing pole, then his hat. “Where’s that soap?”

Kieran set aside his own rod and grabbed the soap, then tossed half of it to Arthur.  

“This is my side,” Arthur declared, pointing to the right half of the lake.  “That’s yours. I ain’t often bathin’ in the company of other people besides myself.”

“Fair enough.”  The younger man began to undress, moving a little ways away from Arthur.  

Arthur took his time, slowly unbuttoning his blue shirt, which was covered in dirt and could use a heavy wash itself.  This area was deserted enough he wouldn’t have to worry about anybody walking in on him. Well, for the most part, Arthur thought grimly.  They had walked in on the random man skinny dipping. No matter. 

He peeled off his shirt and pants, tossing them aside, then stripped down quickly before wading into the water.  He heard a large splash and saw Keiran dunk his head underwater. Arthur soon joined in, the water cold but refreshing around his legs.  Fish scattered as he went further in, going far enough until his feet barely touched the lake floor. He went to work, scrubbing the soap across his hair and his body.  It was scented like a rose, reminding him of Mary-Beth. It was certainly hers, all right. 

He took one final dunk into the water, swam a bit, then popped his head above the surface. 

Kieran stood at the edge of the lake, waist deep into the water.  He was looking back and forth down the bank, then Arthur realized what was wrong.

Their horses were missing.  Not only that, but their clothing was missing as well.  His heart sank, then he cursed, swimming closer to Kieran.  “Where’s our things?” he demanded. 

The younger man crossed his arms.  He was thin, scrawny even - he had always worn a heavy black jacket.  “Somebody took them. I couldn’t see who.”

“Shit.” Arthur looked around, feeling helpless.  The sun had finally passed over the mountains and the stars had started to pop out in the sky.  He was glad for that, at least. He would hate walking in the nude during daylight. “Who did this?”

“Someone who likes playin’ games,” Kieran groaned.  

Arthur took a few steps onto the bank, face red as he covered the front of himself with his hands.  There was nothing left behind for them to use as cover. There were branches, of course, but the leaves were too small to do any help.  “I guess we gotta swim back. My tent is closer to shore, maybe I can sneak in when everybody is asleep.”

“That’ll take ages.  I don’t think Micah ever sleeps.  He’d notice,” Kieran responded.

“Well what do you suggest?” Arthur waded back into the water, heading towards camp.  “No? Nothin’? Well thanks to you, O’Driscoll, we gotta sneak back into our own camp and hope no one finds us.  Hopefully it’s just someone from camp playin’ games with us. All my belongin’s were on that horse!”

Kieran followed him.  “I am not an O’Driscoll!”

The swim back was slow.  The two stayed low enough so they were hidden by the water.  Arthur dove into the water once he saw a form in the trees, but it only turned out to be a deer.  He shivered. He was getting a little too cold now. The heat of the sun had been replaced with a slight breeze and cold air.  It would have been refreshing if he wasn’t half deep into cold water.

“We’re close,” Arthur whispered to Kieran.  He could see the light from camp and he looked to where the horses were.  “There’s Roy, and your horse too. Shit. I bet you anythin’ it was Micah, the bastard.”  At least his saddlebags were safe. His money was in there.

At the moment, everyone was gathered around one of the campfires.  Sadie was heading to shore and Lenny walked off into the trees. Arthur swam to the edge of camp where he could run into the forest if need be.  “How immature does one have to be…” Arthur grumbled as he prepared himself. 

“You goin’ in first?” Kieran asked, eyes wide.  

Arthur nodded, waiting for the right moment to exit the water.  He wasn’t too sure where Sadie had gone, but she wasn’t within eyesight.  Laughter sounded from the campfire. With luck, he could do it. “Stay here.  I’ll bring you your things once I got my clothes,” Arthur said. He set off, keeping his head low, his feet silent against the lake sand.  He was beyond irritated. He went to his tent; Dutch and Molly weren’t at theirs. It was the perfect opportunity.

He reached over and yanked off the blanket of his cot to wrap around himself, then dug into his trunk for pants.

“Oh my lord,” Sadie said from behind his tent.  She had a cigarette in one hand, her hair loose about her shoulder.  

“Shit!” Arthur cursed and dove onto his cot.  “Christ’sakes Sadie!”

Sadie looked with wide eyes at him, her mouth dropped open.  She shook her head and regained her composure. “What are you up to, Arthur!?” she hissed, coming closer.  She reached up and untied the privacy cloth of the tent, which fell down to close it off. She stood next to him in his tent, waiting for an explanation.

She looked him up and down.  “I seen more of you than usual, Arthur.  Care to explain?”

He could feel his face turning red.  He pulled the blanket closer around him.  “Kieran and I - were out - we decided to go for a swim.  Someone swiped our clothes.”

“No wonder your horse was here.  I was lookin’ for you, but couldn’t find ya.”  Sadie peeked outside the tent. “Didn’t see who brought them back, though.”

He motioned her out.  “I gotta get dressed. Kieran is waitin’ for me.  Would you mind runnin’ to his things and grabbin’ him a change of clothing?”

“Arthur.  Arthur!” Micah called outside the tent.  The cloth was pulled aside and Micah stopped, staring at the two of them.  “Oh! I see you and the new girl are gettin’ it on!” he said in a loud voice, purposely loud enough for the whole camp to hear.

“Micah!” Arthur roared, stood up and reached around Sadie, yanking the cloth from the man’s hands.  He shut his tent closed as Micah and several of the other man were laughing and jeering at him and Sadie.

“This may not help things,” Sadie said, looking up at him.  She was inches away from him, her cheeks a bit flushed. He was standing a little too close to her.  

He stepped back, holding the blanket around his hips.  “I’m sorry.”

Micah was still jabbing at the two.  “I didn’t think anyone could calm that firecracker!  I’m impressed, Morgan, gettin’ her to spread her legs like that!”

Sadie’s eye twitched and she twirled, dashing through the opening.  Arthur peered out to watch. “How dare you, Micah?!” She yelled, walking straight up to the man and pointing a finger at his chest.  “What we  _ do _ ain’t none of your business!”

Micah looked down at her, a sneer on his face.  He reached out to run a hand down her arm. “Ever since I saw you that night, in your nightgown, I been wonderin’ what might make you squeal-”

She moved fast, grabbing him by the shoulders and bringing her knee up to his groin in a swift kick.  He let out a breathless huff as he doubled over, holding his privates as he fell to the ground. “You… bitch…” he cursed in between gasps.

“That’s what you get,” Sadie growled.  

Dutch finally walked over, cigar in hand.  He was dressed in his normal red and black vest, his hair swept back.  “That’s enough. Micah, you know better than that. And Arthur, find some clothing, for heaven’s sake.  I am not going to be having fighting between my men.”

“This man doesn’t deserve our sympathy!” Sadie raged, pointing down to the cowering Micah.

“Sadie,” Arthur said lightly, putting a hand on her shoulder.  She didn’t shrug him off. “That’s enough for tonight. You defended your honor. Hell, you even defended my honor.  I think that’s enough.”

Sadie wasn’t done.  She straightened her shirt and looked to Dutch.  “You got good men in your gang, Dutch. But take it from a newcomer’s perspective: this man here ain’t nothin’ but a snake.  And he’ll stab you in the back when the time comes.”

Dutch’s face darkened.  “All I ask for is loyalty, Mrs. Adler.”

“You ask a lot.  He’s more loyal than any of you,” Sadie spat, pointing to Arthur.  “And you’re gonna see that way too late.”

“That’s enough,” Arthur said, pulling her away by the arm.  He could feel Dutch’s anger building. “That’s enough. It’s late and we all need time.  Don’t we, Dutch?” He knew Dutch always claimed he needed time to come up with a plan. 

“That’s all I’m asking for,” Dutch said. He walked away, followed by Micah who glared at the two, then limped sourly away.  The other members of the gang had been watching, but they turned away to head toward their own tents and campfire, murmuring in low voices.

Arthur led Sadie to his tent, made sure the cloth was closed, and told her to sit down.  He reached over to his whisky, still very conscious he was dressed only in a blanket, and poured two small glasses.  He handed one to her and sat next to her, the cot squeaking under the weight.

She took a long drink, flinching at the burning sensation  “Christ, this is hard stuff.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Arthur began, looking into his whiskey.  “Dutch already knows I’m loyal.”

“He doesn’t believe it,” Sadie said, her brown eyes catching his.  “I think you deserve more than this, Arthur.”

He stared at her, admiring those freckles, her blond hair cascading around her face.  He leaned in before he could stop himself, kissing her lightly on the lips. They were soft and hesitant against his.  His heart beat against his chest like nothing else and his palms were sweating. 

Sadie pressed against him, returning his kiss with force. 

Arthur broke away, merely inches from her face.  He was breathing hard. “Thank you,” he said, his voice deeper than normal.

Sadie stared at him a moment, leaned in to brush a kiss against his bearded cheek, then walked out of the tent in a flurry.  Arthur stared at her, wondering if he had done too much. He had scared her away. But she had kissed his cheek in return.

“Ah shit, Kieran!” He was changed and out his tent within a minute, off to go save the naked Kieran from the cold lake.  

 


	5. Chapter 5

Arthur sat at the campfire the next morning, drinking a cup of coffee.  He was one of the few awake, not having slept well during the night. He had noticed Sadie wasn’t in camp and not standing guard, either.  It worried him a little, but he would mind his own business. There were more chores that needed doing that day he could stay busy with.

“Good mornin’,” John said, coming over to sit by him at the campfire.  He poured his own cup of coffee and sat back. 

The two of them still hadn’t talked much ever since their fight.  It’d been a few weeks and they’d both been busy with their own distractions.  

“Look, I’m sorry for what I said,” John apologized.  “You’ve been good to Abigail and Jack and I owe you for it.”

Arthur lifted his coffee up in agreement.  “No harm done. I know times have been rough on you.”

“And you.  I said things I should not have said out loud.  You’ve been like a brother to me, Arthur. I just… fail to realize that.”  John looked down into his coffee. “I heard what Micah was sayin’ last night.  Well, everyone did. He has it out for you and Sadie. I’d watch your back.”

“Noted,” Arthur said.  “Where is he, anyhow?”

“Probably off sleepin’ with whoever would take him.  He left for Rhodes after last night,” John suggested.  He dug into his coat pocket and pulled out a piece of paper.  He handed it to Arthur. “Here. This is something Jack drew for you a couple weeks back.  I got jealous when I saw it.”

Arthur unfolded the crinkled yellowed paper.  It showed a stick figure drawing of a man and woman and child.  Most likely John, Abigail, and Jack. “Why the jealousy?”

“Jack told Abigail it was you, not me,” John sighed.  “I gotta change so next time he draws a picture, it’s me.”

“Well.”  Arthur blinked, not quite knowing what to say.  He tucked the drawing into his satchel. “Tell Jack thank you.  I’m sorry, John. Somebody had to be there for Jack. I’m just glad you’re here.”

Jack laughed in the background, running from Abigail who joined in on the laughter.  “Yeah,” John said, admiring the two. “I am, too.”

The next several hours passed of Arthur moving hay, feeding the chickens, and chopping some firewood.  It was rare he helped with most of the chores as he was gone most of the time, but he was happy to help.  The sun was hotter than yesterday and Arthur had to take a break to wipe the sweat from his brow. He dabbed at it with his handkerchief, then unbuttoned his shirt at the top, letting the slight breeze cool his chest.  

“You look tired,” Charles said, coming up next to him.  He handed Arthur a cup of water. “You should get some rest.”

“Nah, I’m fine,” Arthur said, taking the water from him.  Charles arrived had arrived just in time. Arthur felt a cough building up and he suppressed it into his shoulder.  He drank the full glass of water to clear his throat. “Thank you,” he said, handing back the cup.

“What Sadie said last night…” Charles brushed his unbound hair behind his ear.  “Something to think about, you know? Something has to change around here. And it ain’t gonna be Dutch.  He’s starting to put his trust in the wrong people.”

“We’ll keep watching,” Arthur deemed.  “That’s all we can do in this moment.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

They heard a neigh in greeting and turned to see Sadie riding into camp, her hair tied back and looking like she was on a mission.  She gazed over the camp until her eyes landed on Arthur. She waved him over.

“Guess that’s my summon,” Arthur laughed.  He handed the ax to the other man. “Would you finish this for me?”

“Sure.  Take care, Arthur.”  Charles grabbed the ax and continued the work.

Arthur lightly jogged over to Sadie, who was in a rush to get his own horse saddled.  “What’s up, Sadie?”

“I was ridin’ around and I ran into a person who was runnin’ all scared-like.  They found a body, apparently, somewhere near the Braithwaite Manor. Sounds like they didn’t touch it, but it was fresh enough the clue might still be there.”

Arthur rubbed his beard in thought.  “Let me grab my pack and we’ll be on our way.”

His pack was always ready to go, as he made sure to pack it with fresh clothing each morning, not knowing if he would have to rush off suddenly.  He grabbed it and within the next few minutes the two of them were riding hard toward the location. 

“How do we know it’s the work of the killer?” Arthur asked Sadie.

She took a small glance at him.  “I don’t know, but the person was screamin’ about it missing… parts.  This has to be it.”

Less than a half hour later, they slowed their horses down, finding a large amount of blood by the side of the road.  “This looks familiar,” Arthur said. He stepped off his horse and began walking slowly to the pool of blood, which led a very distinct path.  Sadie was close on his heels.

The blood led to a large tree with thick branches jutting out every single direction.  Crows cawed near the tree, only scattering when the two were close. A leg rested on the ground, grey with bruising, half-rotten, bone protruding from the knee.  Flies and bees buzzed about. 

A stench hit them in a wave once they saw the body.  It was like the other two, head and torso detached, arms spread and tied.  On one of the branches, the word ‘BEHOLD’ was painted in white. They took a minute to look for the head, which was on a rock nearby, a paper sticking out of the poor man’s mouth.  

Sadie pulled out the paper and opened it.  ‘CAN YOU FIND ME’ was written in blood on it.  She flipped it over, which showed a run down building with a basement.  

“He really wants to be found,” Sadie murmured.  “Do you know where this is?”

“I do,” Arthur sighed.  He took the paper from her and looked at it closer.  “That’s close to Valentine. I ran across it when I was doing some errands over there.  Didn’t bother goin’ in, though.”

“Ready for a little trip?” Sadie asked, walking back to their horses. “It’d only take a couple days, max.  They don’t need us back at camp - the affairs are settled, in the meantime. And I’d rather not run into Micah anytime soon.  I might put a bullet in him next time I see him.”

“Sure, we got time.”  

The two continued on toward Valentine, silence falling over them.  Sadie refused to look at him. There wasn’t much to do besides pull out his candies he kept in his satchel.  He took out a few and reached over, tapping Sadie on the shoulder. She took the candies he offered, though flicked her eyes away when he tried to make eye contact.

“Come on, Sadie, you have to say somethin’,” he said, putting the candies back in his satchel.  “I’m sorry for what I did-”

“Oh, don’t apologize, Arthur,” Sadie cut him off and popped a candy in her mouth.  “It’s been awhile since I had to figure out my own feelin’s. I don’t mean to ignore you, I just gotta… deal with my own personal issues.”

“I see.”

They went on, making light conversation, hesitating to bring up the kiss any more.  It was late afternoon by the time they reached Valentine, and they became quiet between themselves once they knew they were close.  They followed a path south of Valentine, then Arthur had them break off into the forest. 

Once he spotted the fallen building through the trees, he had them hitch their horses and creep up quietly on foot, guns drawn and ready to shoot if needed.  Arthur checked for tracks; they were fresh, along with drag marks as if the person had been pulling something. More bodies, Arthur figured. There was a lack of blood, however.  The killer must do all his work inside.

They reached the basement doors, which were unlocked and starting to rot.  He pulled them open, cringing at the sound one of them made. It was enough to alert anybody inside if they were still there.

“Oh my lord,” Sadie coughed quietly and held a hand to her mouth.  Arthur did the same. A cascading stench crept out of the basement.  They’d found the place, all right.

“I’ll go first,” Arthur said.  He drew his rifle and went in, his heart beating fast.  He had grabbed his lantern from the horse. He lit it, sticking it on his belt.  Sadie stuck close to him. The lantern lit up enough to cast strange shadows everywhere.  They rounded the corner and Arthur stopped, taking in the beheaded body before him. It was hanging on the wall, the blood fresh enough to be draining still.  The killer was close and most likely hidden in the basement.

He made his way further in, spying a letter.  He quickly read over it and stuck it in his satchel.  He’d have to process it later. Right now, he had to be careful where he stepped.  Torn feet, arms, and legs littered the floor and the walls. The smell was nearly intoxicating and he felt his stomach clenching.  He’d have to hold it in until this was done.

A small knife flickered in the light, laying on the floor.  He kneeled down to look at it, only to have something heavy hit his nose with a metallic twang, sending him falling backwards.  A man was on him in the next seconds, a knife headed directly for Arthur’s heart.

Sadie knocked the man in the face with the butt of her gun.  He flew backwards onto a pile of limbs. Arthur was up and grabbing his rope by the time the man recovered.  He landed a fist on the man, knocking him out cold. 

“We’ll tie him up and bring him to the Sheriff,” Arthur huffed, tying the man’s wrists and legs sharply.  

“I shoulda shot him!  We need to kill him,” Sadie argued.  “Look at everythin’ he’s done! He doesn’t deserve to live.”

“That’s not for us to decide,” Arthur said over his shoulder.  “We may even get some money for him.”

Sadie crossed her arms.  “I thought we was outlaws, Arthur.”

Arthur shoved the man back on the floor and turned on his heel.  “Well maybe I don’t wanna be an outlaw anymore, Sadie! All I do is killin’ and more killin’!  This man will get justice and I will follow the law on this one. I’m  _ tired _ , Sadie.  Tired of creatin’ messes and killin’ and robbin’.”  He bent down to pick up the man, instantly regretting he had raised his voice.

Sadie looked away, shame written on her face. “I’m sorry,” she said after a pause.  “We’ll do it your way, Arthur.”

He left the basement, not saying anything until he had the man tied to his horse.  Sadie put a hand on his arm, holding out a small hanky. “Your nose is bleedin’.”

He hadn’t even realized.  He grabbed the hanky and held it to his nose.  It wasn’t broken, but it sure did smart. “Sorry I raised my voice, Sadie.  It’s just, I’ve been avoidin’ killin’ people for the past few months. There’s blood on my hands I can’t wash away.”

“You’ve been survivn’.  There’s no harm in that,” Sadie sympathized.  “Let’s get him to the sheriff, then.”

They made it to Valentine, avoiding the main roads as to not draw attention to the man tied up on the horse.  People who did see them made sure to stay a distance away; bounty hunters did not have the greatest reputation.  Arthur hopped off his horse once he reached the sheriff’s office, then grabbed the man who had only just woken up.

Sadie went in first to alert the sheriff of what had happened.  

“Let’s go, then.”  Arthur picked up the man, ignoring whatever he was saying.  It wasn’t his problem. As he walked in the sheriff opened a jail cell.  

“I’ll behave,” the man said in a cool, straight voice, his composure calm.  He was dressed in a simple suit, with greased back hair and simple mustache.  Nearly a gentleman. Someone you wouldn’t suspect of being a serial killer.

Arthur dropped him in the cell and bent down to undo the rope.  He stepped backwards when he was done, reaching for the door. The man stood up, watching Arthur closely.  Sadie was distracted with the Sheriff at the moment, probably discussing how much they should get paid. The door was nearly closed when it shot open and the man jumped at Arthur, grabbing him by the neck.  The two fell backwards and Arthur did his best to push off the clawing man. The man was raging, his teeth clacking as if to bite him. Arthur held the man’s head away from his neck and a sudden explosion of blood splattered around him.  The man slumped on him, all life gone.

The sheriff and Sadie dragged the man off Arthur, who took a moment to collect himself.  He was breathing heavily and suddenly aware he was covered in a whole blanket of blood. He peered over at the man, finding his head bloodied and a small piece blown off.  

“Come on,” Sadie was saying, helping him stand up.  “We’ll get you cleaned up.”

“How much we’d get paid?” Arthur asked weakly.

“Only twenty bucks.”

Arthur leveled a glare at the sheriff, but allowed himself to be led out.  

“We’ll rent a room at the hotel and get you cleaned up,” Sadie was saying. They stopped by the horses and grabbed Arthur’s pack.  “Let’s just room here for tonight. I’ll order us some food and wait for you at the bar.” They walked into the hotel and she handed the man some coins, then patted Arthur on the back.  “See you in a bit.”

Arthur could see the hotel clerk had paled at the sight of him.  The blood must be everywhere. It was enough that he could smell it easily enough.  He didn’t know how much of an appetite he would have after seeing it.

He walked into the bathing room and locked it shut behind him.  There was a cracked mirror in the corner, which he slowly approached.  He could see blood splatter across his face, trailing down to the top of his blue shirt.  “You ugly bastard,” he muttered, sticking his hands in the small wash bin, which was slightly cold.  It didn’t matter. He scrubbed his face until it was raw, then ripped off his shirt, giving it a good rinse as well.

He made the bath quick, eager to be done.  Twice in one week. That was a luxury to him.  At least he smelled better, not covered in a stench of his own sweat and grime.  

Sadie was waiting for him at the bar, two bowls of hot soup and whiskey in front of her.  She pushed one closer to him as she sat down. “Here, eat this. You look like you’re starving.”

Needless to say he was, despite everything he saw today.  “You doin’ alright after seeing what we saw today?”

“It wasn’t pleasant, and I had to resist the urge to hurl,” Sadie said in between bites, her expression dark.  “Never saw anythin’ like that in my life. I’m glad I shot him, Arthur. He obviously wasn’t right in the head. He woulda had you for dinner.”

“I’ve come across many gruesome scenes, but that…” Arthur shook his head.  “Makes you wonder what monsters are lurkin’ around us in plain sight.” He looked back at a group of people at a table as they played poker.  

“Like him?” Sadie motioned with her head slightly toward the man sitting near her.  “He won’t stop starin’. I might have to teach him a lesson.”

The man wandered up then as if drawn to her.  He was an older man, dressed in a dark trench coat and had scraggly white hair bound back.  There was a stench lingering about the man as if he hadn’t ever bathed. “How about me and you go out the back?” he suggested to Sadie in an unattractive, gritty voice.  “Take off those clothes that weren’t meant for you?”

Sadie reached up, grabbed the man by his necktie and pulled him down to eye level. Her other hand held a knife, which she rubbed under the man’s nose.  “How about we go out back and I take off somethin’ of your own?” She looked down to the man’s groin area.

The man hissed as Sadie shoved him away.  He wandered off with a glare, shoving open the saloon’s doors with a thud.

“You’re a scary woman,” Arthur said, taking a long drink of his whiskey.  “No wonder how you were survivin’ out in the middle of nowhere.”

“Had to be.”

Thunder sounded in the distance and a breeze floated through the saloon.  The weather had been kind to them all day and only now threatened to turn on them.  The two finished off their meal and took the whiskey with them. Rain poured down in buckets and they dashed across the street to the hotel, the rain soaking them to the bone.  They grabbed their packs off their horses and went inside, finding only one room available. 

They stomped upstairs, squeezing the water from their shirts and hair.  “Why does it always tend to rain when I’m here?” Arthur asked, opening the door to their room.  “Every time…”

Arthur walked in and set aside his pack, water dripping from the rim of his hat.  Sadie was silent, setting her own belongings on the floor, her back to him. She put aside her hat and untied her braid, the golden hair falling back on her shoulders.  Arthur watched her out of the corner of his eye, very aware of her presence in the tiny room. He took a sip of his whiskey and wondered what to say.

Sadie turned around then, her hands in fists at her side.  “I’m going to regret this,” she told him, her brown eyes piercing his.  She marched over to him and put her hands on either side of Arthur’s face, pulling him down to bring his lips to her own.  He let it happen, setting aside his whiskey blindly, running his hands around her back and pressing her closer to him.

They shared kisses desperately, breathing deeply each other’s scents, tasting each other’s mouths with vigor.  Sadie ran her hands through his hair, one hand absentmindedly tugging at his belt. He let her struggle with the clasp, then moved her backwards towards the bed, pushing her down.  They took each other in, her sitting on the side of the bed, Arthur slowly unbuckling his belt. He let the belt fall, his gun clattering to the floor. Sadie had already pushed down his suspenders without him realizing.  

She reached up and undid the button of his pants.  Before he let her continue, he started undoing the buttons on her shirt.  He lightly pulled the shirt down over one shoulder; he leaned over and kissed the freckles, letting his hand explore the breast nearly exposed.  He heard Sadie’s sharp intake as his fingers brushed her nipple. Lord, he hadn’t realized how much he had been wanting this. 

What had started off slow now ended in a rush as they kissed fiercely, pulling off each other’s shirts and pants without a second thought.  They ended up on the bed, Sadie’s head halfway on a pillow as Arthur’s hands and tongue explore the curves of her body.

“Sadie, you’re beautiful,” he said in the midst of his kisses.  

Sadie whispered his name as he let his hand trail down to the soft mound of hair, his fingers finding the folds of her wet and inviting.  He began exploring, rubbing his fingers softly against her, feeling her shiver against him. She held him close as he let his tongue run over the hardness of her nipples.

“Please,” she whispered as he continued to tease her.  “I need it, Arthur. I need you.”

Arthur captured her lips in his, positioning himself above her and breaking away.  He spread her legs and entered her then ever so slowly. He leaned over and kissed Sadie softly, moving his hips in a rhythm.  Together they moved as one, gasping, sharing kisses, each aching for something they both hadn’t had in a long time, each thrust increasing in speed.  

Arthur pinned one of her hands back, her other grasping the sheet as he continued to thrust, her breasts bobbing up and down - he bit his lip, intent on making it last.  At her outburst, he gave the final thrusts and gasped as he released himself. He leaned over her, panting softly. Sadie pulled him down and kissed his cheek, a small smile on her face.  

He settled beside her, letting her move off the bed to clean herself.  She quickly settled back into his arms. The two breathed in each other and relaxed for the first time in a long while, little words said between them.

* * *

Arthur woke to Sadie screaming. The room was dark as he sat up and grabbed her flailing arms. “Sadie, wake up!” he said, giving her a light shake.  The instant her arms stopped moving, he ran a hand across her freckled cheek. “Sadie?”

Her eyes shot open and she looked around widely.  When she caught sight of him, she flailed once more.  “Get away!” 

He backed up, hopping off the bed and holding his hands up.  “Sadie, it’s Arthur. Wake up.”

She had sat up in bed, a small dagger drawn and pointed at him.  Her hand shook as she cried, not quite seeing it was him. 

“It’s me,” Arthur said again.  “You’re safe. There’s nobody here to hurt you.”

The dagger dropped and Sadie broke down into uncontrollable sobs, curling in on herself.  Arthur approached slowly, not wanting to upset her. “Sadie? Can I touch you?”

She shook her head and laid back down, burying her face in the pillow.  “I can’t. I can’t. Don’t let them touch me.”

Three days.  She had been a captive for three days, Arthur suddenly remembered.  A captive to a group of sexually deprived men. He hadn’t even thought… He sat next to her and pulled the blanket over her.  “Let me know what I can do.”

The words were quiet.  “Hold me,” she said. “Just hold me.”

Without a question, Arthur gathered her in his arms, holding her close to him and rubbing her back softly.  

“I miss him,” she sobbed into his shoulder.  “They killed him and made me watch. Did things to me, made me do things.”

“Don’t think about it,” Arthur soothed.  

“I hate them.  I’ll kill every last one of them for what they did to my husband and me.”

Arthur’s heart tightened.  He had never been one for revenge, but what those men had done was unforgivable. They would have to answer for it later, one way or the other. He held her closer.  “Sleep, Sadie. I’m here for you.”

  
  
  



	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added tags for torture/implied torture.

Sadie was still asleep when Arthur woke to the buzz of voices.  Valentine had started the morning business, as he could hear people and horses going about their usual day.  He was tempted to wake Sadie, but decided against it. She lay on her side, hair askew on the pillow.  The blanket only just covered her shoulder, hiding her lovely curves from sight. Arthur resisted the urge to brush a hand along her shoulder and feel the softness of her skin.  The smell of coffee drifted through the room.  It would only take him a second to walk downstairs and grab them two cups from the hotel lobby. He threw on his pants and shirt, leaving it untucked, and went barefoot downstairs. 

He nodded to the store clerk, who eyed him with disdain.  The clerk never approved of Arthur when he stopped by, but had nothing against him staying there as long as there was coin to be made.  With two cups of freshly poured coffee, Arthur walked back upstairs and quietly entered the tiny room.

Sadie was sitting up in bed, the sheets pulled up to cover herself.  A look of relief passed over her face when she saw him. “Thought you was gone,” she said, accepting the cup of coffee from him.

“Me?  Nah. Can’t leave such a pretty lady behind,” Arthur replied, sitting on the side of the bed.  “Figured we could get a late breakfast and make our way slowly to camp.”

“Do we have to?” Sadie sniffed, leaning back against the bed frame.  “I just know they gonna start gossipin’.”

“We’ll handle that when we have to.”  Arthur took a deep gulp of his coffee.  It burned satisfactory down his throat. “Ms. Grimshaw is gonna be gloatin’ big time, though.”

Sadie smirked.  “We did exactly what she wanted.”

“That we did.”

She took a sip of her coffee, then set it on her lap.  “I realize what I done last night, Arthur. It… affected me more than I thought it would.  I thought I was over it. I clearly... was not.”

Arthur had figured that.  He didn’t regret what they had done, but… “Maybe we shouldn’t’ve rushed it.”  

“It would have been the same - now or a year from now.” Sadie’s face turned pale.  “They was bad men, Arthur. I’d only been… intimate… with my husband. What those men did… they had ruined somethin’ special.  Somethin’ meaningful.” Her chocolate eyes sought his then. “I was scared - but I didn’t want you to see it.”

She had been scared.  That hit Arthur in the gut.  “Sadie, if you ever feel scared, we don’t have to do anythin’.  I don’t want to make you regret somethin’ we did. Had I known…”

Sadie was shaking her head as he was talking.  “No. I don’t regret it, not with you. You’re nothin’ like those men.  You’re sweet. Kind. You took it slow and… I think that’s what I needed. You made it meaningful.  My past got the best of me, that’s all.”

Arthur scooted closer to her and kissed her cheek.  “You’re a strong woman. I think that’s why I like ya.”  He met her gaze, turning serious. “If you ever wanna stop - if you need time, let me know.  I don’t wanna upset you. We take this slow and work it out.”

“You’re too good for anyone,” Sadie pointed out.  “Also too loyal, especially to Dutch.”  
Arthur stood and walked over to the window, pulling open one of the curtains.  He knew she could be right. “I been with him twenty years. It’s hard not to be loyal to a man who’s like… a father to me.  He’s gotten us through everythin’ so far. He could do it again.”

“I don’t know if that’s what you want.  I see you doubtin’, Arthur. Your eyes are too honest.”

“Dutch has… he’s been changin’,” Arthur admitted. “Killin’ people he shouldn’t.  It’s not the Dutch I used to know and I do not know where he is headed. The path ain’t so clear no more.”

“Look…”  Sadie let out a frustrated sigh.  “I stickin’ with you outlaws because it’ll lead me to the O’Driscolls.  That’s the path I see laid out for me. But you? What do you plan to do?”

Arthur didn’t have an answer for her.  “I’m survivin’. It’s all I know.” He finished off his coffee and set the cup aside. He walked back to her and leaned down, giving her a long kiss. He was almost surprised at how natural it felt - how comfortable he was with her. “I suggest we get ready, Sadie,” he said once he broke off the kiss.  He moved on to gather his boots and clothing laying about the floor.

* * *

The sun was high in the sky by the time the two made it to Rhodes, the rays unforgivingly hot.  Their camp was as usual, with everybody working on their chores or playing a game at one of the tables.  Abigail waved as the two passed, holding a basket of wet clothing. “Welcome back!” she called out. She wore a flower crown on her head, one of the many Jack tended to make for her.

Arthur hitched his horse and determined it was time to clean Roy; he was dusty from the long travels.  

“I got that for you,” Kieran said, appearing out of nowhere.  Instead of his usual trench coat he was dressed in loose white trousers and a black shirt, the sleeves pulled up at the elbows.  He began unsaddling the horse. “I can tell it’s been a long day for you.” His voice shook a little, and he avoided looking at Arthur. 

“You okay?” he asked the younger man.

“No,” Kieran sputtered.  “I seen some O’Driscoll’s ridin’ about.  They’d kill me.”

Sadie popped over when she heard him.  “Where?”

“Near Rhodes.  I seen some back near Valentine, too.  I don’t trust them.”

“Don’t you worry,” Arthur said, patting Kieran on the shoulder.  He would hold off on the teasing for now. It was clear the younger man was unsettled. “Stick close.  We got your back.”

Kieran’s concerned expression lightened a little.  “Of course. Thank you, Arthur.”

Arthur grabbed his pack and put it over his shoulder.  He reached out a hand to Sadie, who looked at him, surprised.  

“I guess we didn’t discuss this,” she said shyly.  

“You can either sleep with the girls or stay with me in my tent.  It’s up to you. People are gonna start talkin’ sooner or later,” Arthur said, still offering his hand.  “I can at least take your bag.”

Kieran observed the two of them, then his mouth curved a “Ohhhhh.”

Sadie hesitantly gave the handle of her bag to Arthur, who took it without a word.  She followed him back to his tent, her head held high. Arthur did not care if the camp started talking about the two of them getting together.  He liked Sadie and wanted to make sure she understood that. He set down the bags on the cot. 

“You wanna go for a boat ride?” she asked him, staring at the lake. 

“Sure.  Let’s go.”  

They made their way to the lake where one small canoe was tied to the dock. It was recently acquired and usually in use, as someone always wanted to take it fishing.  Sadie was wringing her hands as Arthur untied the boat, something clearly on her mind.

“What’s botherin’ you?” he asked her.  

“I just… nervous.  Like I shouldn’t allowed to be with someone yet.  I know what I got into, just… everyone knowin’? I don’t care what they think of me… I just…” Sadie put a hand on her chest.  “I got this anger in me, Arthur. It ain’t gonna go away, at least not anytime soon. I don’t wanna ruin what this could be.”

“I know,” Arthur said.  He went to her and ran his hands down the sides of her arms, pulling her closer.  “I’m a patient man. You know you are the first serious woman I been with since Eliza?  I haven’t dallied much, Sadie. But there’s somethin’ about you I can’t resist.”

Sadie frowned at him.  “What of this Mary I heard Ms. Grimshaw talkin’ about who was by awhile ago?”

“Mary was… is…” Arthur searched for words.  “She’s a woman who is from another world. A rich world, who don’t understand what I do, why I do.  And she never did, never will.”

“So I’m not stealin’ you away from her?”

“Nah.  She and I weren’t meant to be,” Arthur said and kissed her on the forehead, then gathered her in a tight embrace.  She smelled heavenly to him. “You and I both have flaws and demons we need to work through. I’ll stick by you - may not even be able to keep up with you.  All I ask is for you to be patient about me while I try to find out who I am.”

“Agreed.”  Sadie looked up and caught him in a light kiss.  “You’re a handsome man, Arthur Morgan, you know that?”

“Aw, now you’re just teasin’,” he chuckled.  

“Arthur!” he heard Dutch call out.  The older man stood by his tent, waving Arthur over.  Micah and Pearson stood by him. Pearson’s face had a shocked expression, while Micah glared and Dutch looked amused.  

“Duty calls,” Sadie murmured, looking down.  “We’ll do the boat ride another time.”

 Arthur took a step back and lifted her hand to his lips.  “Till next time, Sadie.” He went to meet with Dutch, lighting a cigarette along the way.  “What can I do for you, Dutch?” He took a long drag.

The older man lit a cigar and eyed Arthur warily.  “This is a recent development. I must say, Arthur, you surprise me.  She’s a recent widow, son.”

“Didn’t take her as a whore,” Micah chipped in, his voice low.  “Her husband passed, what, a few months ago? She moves on rather quickly, does she?”

Arthur tossed aside his cigarette and stomped towards Micah, with Dutch intervening by putting a hand on his chest. He let himself be held back, but only just. “You ain’t got no say in this, Micah, you basta-.”

“Enough!” Dutch roared, glaring at the two of them. “Arthur, we’ll support your decision.  We’ll talk about it later. Pearson has something to tell us.”

“Oh!  Yes!” Pearson chimed in.  “I met a couple of the O’Driscoll boys on the road into town… things were about to get ugly, but you know how I am in a fight, huh?”  He pulled out a dagger and grinned. “Like a cornered tiger! Anyway. Somehow it didn’t, but we got to talkin’, and they suggested a parley to end things.  Like gentlemen.” 

_ O’Driscoll’s?  Parley?  _  Arthur watched Micah try to convince Dutch it was a good idea to settle things between the two gangs.  His heart sank. He was not convinced this would be a good idea. It would only end up in them getting shot, and he said so.

They didn’t bother to listen to him, or Hosea, who said it would be a trap.  Of course it was going to be a trap. He leveled a dark stare at Micah. Somehow this idiot was managing to convince Dutch.  It didn’t matter what Hosea or Arthur thought, or if it was a trap. The possibility was there, which was enough for Dutch. Arthur would be going along as protection from afar.  Because Micah said so.

It angered him.  He wanted nothing more than Micah to be gone from the gang.  He was a piece of scum.

During the time they had been talking, Kieran had prepared Roy, his coat freshly brushed and glossy.  Arthur parted from the group to grab his bag and have a word with Sadie. Every nerve in his body was telling him it was a bad idea.  It felt wrong. Obviously a trap, and since it was Colm, there would be bloodshed. It was a bit of a trip to the meeting place; Arthur would have some time to mentally prepare himself.

Sadie came over to him, two bowls of soup in her hands.  She handed one to Arthur as she approached his tent. “What’d Dutch want?”

“Colm O’Driscoll.  He thinks they may be able to have a parley.” Arthur took a bite of his soup and began scarfing it down.

Sadie frowned.  “But… it’s Colm.  He’s a murderous bastard.  Why would Dutch consider?”

Arthur shrugged toward Micah’s direction.  “Influenced by that bastard, no doubt.”

“Let me come with you.”

“Dutch wants to keep it small,” Arthur said, then drained the last of the soup.  “I wouldn’t worry, Sadie. This won’t end with a parley. Somethin’ feels off about this.”

“I can fight just as well-”

Arthur set aside the bowl and grabbed his pack.  “This is what Dutch wants, and you know it’s hard to change his mind.  If it’s a trap, keep an eye out, protect the camp.”

Sadie’s lips were set into a hard line, clearly unhappy.  “Fine. Just - be careful, you hear?”

“Of course.”  Arthur gave her one final kiss - Sean walked by then, who laughed at the sight of them.

“Didn’t know you had it in you, old man!” Sean quipped.

Arthur took a step forward and gave the man a light kick, who jumped away with a chuckle.  “Go find somethin’ to do!” At Sean’s hasty departure, he said to Sadie, “Take care. I’ll see you later tonight.”  She gave him a small smile as he walked away. 

It felt odd leaving then.  Normally, he was not in any rush to return to camp, but he wanted nothing more than to spend the day with Sadie.  Get to know her more. He knew she still hurt, she was angry at her past, and it didn’t help the two had slept together rather suddenly.  They were both wanting and lonely people. It was obvious he felt an attraction to her. Here was a woman who wanted to take action, who had no qualms joining the gang.  Mary, on the other hand, cared too much about herself. Arthur wouldn’t change for her, and she wouldn’t change for him. He and Mary was pure fantasy.

With Sadie, it was possible - he was ready for someone, and she had accepted him.  He just hoped he would be enough for Sadie in the end. 

He departed with the other two men, following the dusty path out of camp.

“At this rate, we’ll have another little Jack runnin’ around,” Micah said as they were out of sight of the camp.  “ _ Papa _ Arthur.”

“I don’t want your comments nor do I ever need it,” Arthur snapped.  

“Enough!” Dutch shouted.  “Let’s concentrate on our plan.”

Truth be told, Arthur hadn’t given much thought about the possibility of a child.  Neither he or Sadie had talked about it. It was too early to even think of it. The two of them hadn’t even declared themselves to one another.  But… he cursed mentally.  _ Eliza. _  He had been there for her.  He wasn’t like John - he’d take responsibility. 

He would think about it when the time came.  For now, he would focus at the task on hand.

His stomach was feeling queasy about the idea of the  _ parley _ .  He would be going along as a backup in case anything went south.  Micah had Dutch wrapped around his finger. What was so appealing about Micah, anyhow?  That man was nothing but trouble and brought chaos everywhere he went. Nobody liked Micah besides Dutch, Arthur was pretty sure of that. 

Arthur still hated the fact he had shot up Strawberry busting him out of jail.  He would have rather left him to hang. The gang would be better off without him.  But no. Dutch wanted it, so it had been done. 

Just like this.  Obviously a trap.  And they were walking right into it.  

Near the meeting place, Arthur broke away and headed to a higher ledge where he could observe with his scope.  He would have a clear shot and while the sun was setting, there was still plenty of light. The only thing that made him nervous was the openness of the meeting place.  Little to no cover with only bushes and dirt surrounding them. 

Dutch and Micah waited down below.  There was a slight breeze as Arthur settled down on the edge of the cliff.  An eagle flew overhead, letting out one scream as it hunted for food. He wished he could hear what the two men were saying.  Horses appeared around the bend and he peered through the scope to confirm it was Colm, accompanied by two of his own men. They trotted up to Dutch and Colm hopped off his horse, approaching slowly, his hands up. His two men kept their fingers on their guns, though.  Arthur was ready to shoot them if they made any wrong move.

Sweat dripped down his brow as the two made conversation.  So far it was pleasant. The two men didn’t attempt to raise their guns.  They hadn’t spotted Arthur yet, which was a bonus for him. He’d be able to get off shots before they would even lift their gun.

A branch snapped behind him and he looked back to the butt of a rifle.  Pain exploded on his face, his vision going black, and he fell into a bottomless abyss.  

* * *

Water splashing.  Men chattering. A horse neighing.  Arthur numbly woke up, the blood rushing to his head.  His ears rang and his stomach was in pain as he realized he laid sideways on a horse. His tried to move his arms and found them bound tightly, the rope digging harshly into his skin.  A wave of dizziness passed over him, his head throbbing, and he let the darkness claim him once more.

He woke up to him being tossed on the ground, his hip digging into a sharp rock.  He lay still as the men seemed to put a camp together. The sun had long set, replaced by a full moon high in the sky.  The dark would help hide his escape. His arms were still tied but they hadn’t bothered with his legs. It left him an opportunity to run.  

They had taken off his clothing, leaving him only in his long johns.  It left him feeling cold and defenseless. His weapons must be hidden somewhere in the camp.

Once he heard the men settle down, he opened his eyes and found them all resting, with one guard on watch duty.  His back was to Arthur. There. It was time. Arthur shuffled to his stomach and attempted to stand, his legs shaking.  The men had hit his head hard and his dancing vision was proving difficult. No matter. Arthur took off deep into the forest, not knowing where he was, and broke off into a full sprint once he was a decent length aways.  

“Hey!” one of the men shouted behind him.   _ Shit, shit, shit, _ Arthur cursed, running deeper into the foliage.  There was a trail, but he’d try to avoid it if he could.  Through the forest it’d be harder for the horses to follow him. 

He dodged around one tree and his heart sank as the trees started diminishing in number, and soon he was in a clearing.  He had little choice; the men would be on him soon. He followed the edge of the forest until he could no longer avoid the clearing, then he shot straight through, dodging bushes and stumps.  People had cleared the path for in preparation for train tracks. 

There was a sudden tug on his foot and felt himself crashing forward, yelling as he collided with the hard rocky ground, his arms unable to help break his fall.  He landed in a heap and started kicking his legs to undo the rope. It only tightened as the men neared - there were three of them, all wearing old clothing that stenched to the high heavens.  

A boot connected to his stomach, knocking the air out of him.  There was little he could do to defend himself. He shut his eyes as another boot connected to his ribcage, his shin, the back of his neck.  One connected with his face and he felt his lip tear, blood filling his mouth. 

“You gonna stay put now, huh?” one of the men asked, kneeling over him.  

“I’d rather kill you first,” Arthur coughed, spitting out blood.  

One of the other men laughed, a man with a gap tooth and greasy hair.  His eyes peered over Arthur in a way that made him sick. “And just how are you gonna do that?”  He knelt down besides Arthur and tapped him on the nose. “Looks here you are all tied up.”

“Gentlemen,” Colm said, appearing beside them on his horse.  He looked unamused. “We need him alive - take him back to camp and tie him up.”  He kicked his horse and left them, heading back to camp.

_ This is what loyalty will do to you,  _ Arthur thought to himself, bitter about everything.   _ It had been a trap, Dutch!  What happened to your common sense?  _

Thoughts of Sadie suddenly ran through his head.   _ Another sorry man she would have to bury.  _

He let himself be lifted and dragged to the camp where he was tied to a tree, his wrists bound on either side.  He eyed the men wearily as they settled back into camp. Three men, plus Colm, who was a better aim then the three put together.  It was a little bit too much for Arthur to take on. He’d have to wait for the opportune moment.

He slept poorly throughout the night.  His back ached against the bark and his butt was numb from sitting too long.  Somehow when the moon finally passed and the day started anew, Arthur snagged a rough hour of sleep.  He woke when the men started putting out the fire. 

“Let me do my business,” Arthur asked, his mouth tender.  His bladder was hurting something awful. “You have to do at least that much.”

The men looked at each other, hesitant.  One gave a nod and untied him, while another pointed a rifle at Arthur’s head.  They marched him a few feet away from the tree. “No privacy?” Arthur mocked. A rifle butt to the back of his head was the answer to that.  He stumbled forward but managed to stay upright. He grumbled and quickly did his business, irked at the men watching him. No decency. 

They gagged him and bound his hands.  He was hoisted onto the back of a horse once more, which turned out to be Gap tooth’s horse.  If Arthur was going to kill one of them, it would be this man first. 

They continued for hours, passing through territory Arthur was not very familiar with.  He suspected it was north - definitely not east, where the swamps were. That was a pity.  He’d like to feed these men to the alligators. 

At long last the men arrived to a rundown building, clearly abandoned for some time.  A farmhouse stood, the front door torn open, the wood half-rotten and sinking into the earth.  They led him to a basement around the back, opening the doors which led to a staircase leading down.  It was much like the serial killer’s basement, Arthur realized. He just hoped there weren’t ripped up bodies in there.

They yanked Arthur off the horse and tossed him down the stairs.  He yelled as he collided down the steps, his arm catching an old nail as he tumbled.  He landed squarely on the floor, his head swirling as he could feel the blood leaking from his arm.   _ Bastards. _

The men began to tie him upside down, lifting him just so his head was a couple feet off the floor.  The gag was tight around Arthur’s mouth; he would have liked to insult the men. He supposed it might be a good thing he couldn’t.  They’d only beat on him again.

He hung upside down for what seemed like an eternity, his head getting fuzzy from the blood rushing down.  A knife poked him in the stomach, getting his attention. He looked up to find Colm staring at him, chewing on something that smelled delicious.  Colm took another bite, not saying a word. He put the knife against Arthur’s cheek and pulled, tearing the gag off. Arthur spat out the remainder.  

“Arthur Morgan,” Colm said.  “It’s good to see you.”

“Can’t say the same,” Arthur mumbled.  He numbly reached out to Colm’s arm, grabbing it in a weak attempt to fight back. 

Colm shrugged him off.  “Tell me, Arthur. Why are you still runnin’ with old Dutch?  Could come ride with me and make real money.”

“It ain’t about the money, Colm.”

“Oh no.”  Colm kicked him suddenly in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him.  “It’s Dutch’s old famous charisma! You killed a whole bunch of my boys at Six Point Cabin!”

“I ain’t got no clue what you talking about.”

Colm started pacing in front of him.  “Oh, you lie, my friend.” He pulled out a gun and pressed it against Arthur’s temple.  “And I thought Dutch preached truth.”

 “Let me go, Colm, and end all this crap between you two.  We all got real problems now.”

Colm straightened.  “The way I see it… they get him, they forget about me.”

“They ain’t the forgettin’ sort.  If I were you, I’d run as soon as I had the money.”

“Oh, I know you would, but see, we lure an angry Dutch in to rescue ya, grab all of ya and hand ya in… “ Colm waved his hand to the door.  “Then disappear.”

It hit Arthur then.  “So you only met with him to grab me?”

“Of course.  He gonna be so mad.  He gonna come raging over here, a whole lot of ya, and the law’ll be waiting for him.”

It was getting difficult to breathe.  Arthur could feel the rage pouring through him.  This is not how it would end for the van der Linde gang.  He would not be the cause of it.

“Oh, Arthur, Arthur.  I missed you.” Colm grabbed the hilt of his gun and moved fast, hitting it against Arthur’s stomach.  Arthur angrily tried to grab the gun, but his head was getting dizzy from being upside down. “You haven’t been hurt enough yet, my friend.  We’ll show old Dutch just how I think of a  _ parley _ .”  Colm whistled and the three men who had captured Arthur descended down the stairs, guns and knives drawn.  With one last chuckle, Colm walked out of the basement and shut the doors.

“We’ve been told not to kill you,” Gap tooth hissed, a knife in his hand.  “But we can get you close.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Arthur gasped, his sides still hurting.  

Gap tooth cut the rope, sending Arthur crashing to the ground.  The men were on him in a second, pinning him by either arm. Gap tooth held a long piece of metal that resembled an old fence pole, then poked Arthur’s knee.  “Can’t have you running off now, can we?” Gap tooth sneered. 

Arthur’s legs were still bound.  He tried to move away, straining against the men holding him.  He watched in horror as Gap tooth lifted the metal and brought it down with force, crashing it against his leg.  Pain shirked through Arthur and he bit back a scream as the man continued to bring the pole against his leg in the same exact spot over and over again.  

The pole wasn’t enough for the Gap toothed man.  He tossed it aside and kept kicking at the leg until it snapped.  Arthur lost it then, shrieking through clenched teeth as the pain rippled through him.  His leg was surely broken. He felt the men let go and bring down kicks on his body, his face - he felt a finger snap as it got caught by one of the steel toed boots.  He was utterly defenseless and at the mercy of the men. 

He still tried to crawl away once the men were done, and they let him.  He wiggled toward the staircase, his nose and lips bleeding, his vision blurry.  He crawled up the steps and then he heard a gun click and he heard it before he felt it; then his shoulder was on fire.  He was dragged back, a blood trail following him.

Then his legs were untied, greasy hands touching him, unbuttoning his clothing - he resisted the urge to hurl as he felt hands grope him.  Everything they were doing was through a foggy haze. He wearily watched Gap tooth pick up the metal pole, now burning red on one edge. It had been sitting in the fire, and now he held it above Arthur’s privates, grinning maniacally.  Now he knew how Kieran had felt.

“That’s enough for now,” Colm called down, as if chiding little kids.  “We need him to survive at least a couple nights.”

The two men went directly upstairs, but Gap tooth hesitated.  He looked down at Arthur through his greasy hair, then moved the metal pole to Arthur’s chest.  Arthur gave one last scream as the pole was pressed to his chest, burning away hair and skin. 

He was left huffing and fading in and out of consciousness by the time Gap tooth left.  All he could think of was how he failed. Failed Dutch. Failed Sadie. Failed everyone.  They were going to walk into this and Arthur wouldn’t be able to warn them. He let the world turn black, fading into his misery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep changing the summary because boy am I bad at writing them.


	7. Chapter 7

He shifted into consciousness at a snail’s pace.  He became vaguely aware of where he was: still in the basement, his hands unbound.  There was pain shooting through every crevice of his body, particularly his shot shoulder and his leg where they had snapped it.  His left pinky was twisted an odd way as well.

He opened his mouth and smacked his dry lips, tasting blood everywhere.  He ran his tongue along his teeth, feeling for any loose ones. He wiggled one of his back teeth.  He had always prized himself on having all his teeth - this one would surely fall out soon.

A flame caught his attention, bringing him an idea.  He had seen Colm eating food earlier - how long ago had that been?  It didn’t matter. He was more interested to see if Colm had left behind a knife for him to dig the bullet out of his shoulder.  It wasn’t a life threatening bullet wound, but if not cleaned, the wounds would get septic.

Christ, his leg hurt.  He attempted to untie his feet, his bruised hands struggling to undo the rope digging into his skin.  At least it was only his pinky that was broken. He’d hate for his trigger finger to be damaged. After a minute of struggling with the rope, he was free and dragging his broken leg along the floor as he crawled towards the table.  He searched blindly with his hands, nearly sighing with relief once he felt the butter knife Colm had left.

He lifted himself onto a chair nearby and dug the knife into his shoulder, biting his lip as he did so.  He’d endure the pain; he had to if he wanted to survive so he could warn Dutch of what was coming. The bullet popped out with a stream of blood.  Arthur grabbed a shotgun shell next and popped off the cap, meaning to make use of the gunpowder. He’d have to cauterize the wound.

The candle flame was next.  He grabbed it, took a deep breath, then shoved it onto the wound.  His vision went hazy as he doubled over in pain. He tossed aside the candle and gave himself a minute for his head to clear.

“Clever,” he heard Gap tooth say from behind him.  

Arthur turned sharply in the chair to face him, shoving the butter knife behind him.  It was his only shot of survival and he hoped the man hadn’t seen him.

“How’s the leg?” the man asked.  He was playing with a thin knife.  He sheathed it at his side. Now that Arthur had a better chance to look at him, he could see the man looked much like a rat.  Skinny, with a long hooked nose and a pimpled face. Just another example of the kind of men in the O’Driscoll gang.

“No better, thanks to you,” Arthur said, starting to sweat.  He had to get the man to come over to him. He would not be able to make it far on his broken leg.  

“I was thinkin’ we’d have a bit of fun before your gang got here,” Gap tooth said, a hand on his belt.

Arthur looked him up and down.  “You’re a deprived man. No wonder Colm keeps you around.  You keep his bed warm too?”

Rage triggered in the greasy man’s eyes.  Gap tooth grabbed his gun and crossed the few feet between them, shoving the gun under Arthur’s chin and yanking his head back with a sharp hold on his hair.

“Keep talkin’, pretty boy, and it may be the end of you,” Gap tooth said, his breath hot on Arthur’s face.  The man was uncomfortably close to him. Gap tooth let go of Arthur’s hair and put his dirty hand to Arthur’s shoulder, moving it ever slowly under his clothing.  

“Get your hands off!” Arthur choked and shoved the man away, not caring there was a gun pointed at him.  

Gap tooth laughed and shoved his gun in his hostler.  “You don’t like that now do ya?” He grabbed his knife and was on Arthur in a quick second, wrapping a hand around Arthur’s neck and shoving his face into his knee.  Stars danced across Arthur’s vision as he felt his arms turn to liquid. Gap tooth grabbed Arthur’s left hand and shoved it on the table.

“This’ll stop you,” Gap tooth said and shoved the knife into Arthur’s palm with force, pinching it onto the table.  

Arthur let out a blood curdling yell and lost all sense, his vision coming and going as he barely held onto his consciousness.  He was vaguely aware of Gap tooth breathing over him, rustling with his clothing, his stench filling Arthur’s nostrils.

“Lucky for you…” Arthur huffed through jolts of agony, not yet ready to give in.  “I’m pretty good with my hands.” He grabbed Gap tooth by the necktie and pulled him forward, knocking his head against his.  Gap tooth fell back. Arthur reached for knife that held his hand to the table, moving faster than the man could react. The knife was out of his hand and embedded into the man’s neck before he could register what happened.  Blood splayed as the man gurgled above Arthur, his eyes turning glassy. He took a small step to the side and stumbled to the ground, his body twitching as he slowly died.

“Sick bastard,” Arthur muttered, grabbing the gun the man had dropped.  He leaned down to undo the necktie and hastily tied it around his bloody hand to stop the flowing blood.  He had to get out of there and fast. Even if Colm said not to kill him, the men wouldn’t hesitate to disobey the order once they found out Arthur killed Gap tooth.    

His leg made everything more difficult.  He made his way to the entrance, holding the wall or shelves, anything that could take the pressure off his leg.  The metal pole caught his eye; the very thing that helped break his leg would be the only thing to offer support. He hadn’t even seen the burn on his chest yet and had nearly forgotten about it.  That would have to come later. He grabbed it and awkwardly continued on.

He crawled his way up the stairs, avoiding the nail he had torn his arm on earlier.  It was dark out; men marched back in forth in the distance. Gap tooth must have been the main guard as there was nobody else nearby, except the lights in the distance where the men were doing their patrols.  Only crickets were in his immediate company and he was grateful for it.

There was a shed nearby that caught his attention.  His coat and clothing was draped over the fence, along with his holster and satchel.  He limped over to it and looped the gun belt around his hips, his two guns safely in their holsters.  He slung the satchel over his shoulder. There was no time for him to get changed.

He caught the scent of horse droppings and peered around the corner where four horses were hitched up.  Roy, his mustang, was tied on the end, still saddled up. He felt a sigh of relief and a wave of dizziness, and made his way to the horse.  

Getting on the horse proved difficult.  He dropped the metal pole and he had to lift himself up, the torn shoulder and punctured hand screaming at him as he settled his broken leg over the horse.  “Giddy-up,” he whispered, his vision now turning into black and white dots. “Get me home, boah.”

Roy took off in a hurry and Arthur held onto the horn with his dear life, mostly letting the horse navigate.  He blearily tried to lead Roy away from all the lights and when there seemed to be no more, he let Roy continue on.  The horse was rather new and Arthur hoped beyond hope the horse could figure out a way home.

The jostling from riding hard was beginning to get to Arthur.  His broken leg danced about as it hurt too much to keep in the stirrup, but he still held on to the horn.  Thoughts of Sadie ran through his head of the night they had shared together; it had been so long since he cared for another.  He was scared he wouldn’t see her again. John. Dutch. Charles. Everybody else. Even Pearson’s stew.

After what seemed like decades of hard riding, Arthur fell off the horse, tumbling onto his right shoulder.  Roy danced around him, nuzzling him with his snout, then took off into the forest. He drifted in and out, dreaming of Sadie and what could have been.

* * *

Soft.  Plush. Clean.  It was all too much, too different, that Arthur shot up in the bed.  He looked around frantically, everything roaring in his ears. He was in a small room, decorated with plush furniture.  A table was near his bed, covered in dirty and bloody rags. Were they his? Where was he? This was a room that was too clean for him.  Someone obviously lived here and cared for the place.

He looked down to the flowered covers and tossed them aside.  He was in the nude, which revealed the black and blueness of his body.  His leg was bound in white rags and set with a plank. Someone had rescued him, he finally realized.  He took in his other wounds: his torn arm was wrapped, though some blood still seeped through the bandage.  It was the same with his left hand. The burn on his chest was curved, a couple inches long and smelled like something awful.  The bullet wound on his shoulder ached, but was wrapped in a freshly bloodied rag.

A nauseated wave flushed over Arthur and he laid back down, suddenly breathing hard.  He didn’t feel right.

The door to the room opened and a young, brown haired man stepped through, dressed in simple clothing of brown pants and blue shirt with suspenders.  “You’re alive!” a man said and hurried over. He sat on the chair next to the bed and studied at Arthur with concerned eyes. “How do you feel?”

“Like I been hit by a train,” Arthur choked out.  His mouth was dry and it hurt to talk. He flicked his tongue over the spot where the tooth had been loose; it was gone.  

“I had to remove it,” the man said, tapping on his own mouth.  His face was almost boyish, though he seemed to have some wisdom about him.  “I checked everywhere for injuries and it was hanging by a thread. All your other teeth seem fine.”

“Am I dyin’?”

The man shook his head.  “No. There is still a chance for infection, though I cleaned your wound best as I could.  I expect you’ll live. Any longer, and the infection would have been too great. I’m Cal Balfour, by the way.”

“Arthur.  Arthur Morgan.”

“Well, Mr. Morgan, could you explain how you ended up on our doorstep with our old horse?”

“The mustang?”  Arthur was surprised.  “He was yours?”

“He was stolen from our place about a year ago,” Cal confirmed.  “We been missing him. His name is Alfons.”

“I been callin’ him Roy.  Bought him out west, in Strawberry.”

“Good name.”

There was a heavy pause between the two.  “Ain’t you gonna ask how I ended up here?” Arthur quipped lightly.  

“In due time, once you’re better.  If we’re hosting a killer, we’d prefer to not know about it,” Cal reasoned.  “My wife, Charlotte, is preparing some food for you. Just a light stew, nothing fancy.  I suspect you haven’t eaten anything recently?”

“I’ll be honest, I don’t think I could.”

“You’ll have to if you want to survive.  Infection will still take over if you’re not strong enough.”

Charlotte walked in then, a steaming bowl in her hands. A beautiful woman with a soft face and black hair tied back  She was dressed in a simple dark shift. “It’s a simple stew. Cal caught a few rabbits earlier, and I mixed in some potatoes,” Charlotte said, pride in her voice. “I’m Charlotte Balfour, Mr…”

“Arthur Morgan,” Arthur said, struggling to sit up.  Cal put a hand around him and helped him sit up, then placed a few pillows behind him.  Arthur leaned back against the plush pillows, his forehead covered in sweat. His heart was beating fast.  Christ, he had barely moved.

“You strong enough to hold your soup?” Cal asked.

“Should be.”  Arthur accepted the bowl of soup and set it on his lap.  He began to eat, conscious of the couple watching him. His hand was shaking as he lifted the spoon to his mouth.

“You can keep Al… Roy, by the way.  We have a new horse,” Cal said. “You bought him fair and square.”

Arthur almost choked at that.  He sure hadn’t. He’d stolen him with Sadie.  “Roy’s yours to begin with, Mr. Balfour.”

“I insist.  I’m sure you have places to be, people worried about you.”  

“I do.”  Arthur chewed on a piece of rabbit, savoring the juicy flavor.  Rabbit wasn’t his favorite meat, but at that moment, it tasted divine.  

“I’m so glad you’re awake.  The first few days, you were so feverish…” Charlotte said, her eyes flickering with sympathy.  “We weren’t sure you were gonna make it.”

“Days?”

“You’ve been out for at least a week, Mr. Morgan,” Cal pointed out.  “And you’ll not be able to walk for another few, until that leg is healed.”

“No,” Arthur set aside the soup and began to shove the covers off, decency be damned.  “I gotta warn them, they’re in danger-” He fell forward off the bed, landing in Cal’s prepared arms.  Cal set him back on the bed, his heart beating uncontrollably fast and his limbs tingling from exertion.

“You’re in no shape to go anywhere!” Cal determined.  “Eat your soup.”

“I need to warn them… they’ll be looking,” Arthur huffed out.  

“Would you like us to write you a letter?” Charlotte offered.

“Yes.  Post to Rhodes, to a Tacitus Kilgore - tell them,” Arthur’s breathing was getting heavy and his vision was dancing - “Tell them to stay away from Colm.  It’s a trap.” He passed out.

* * *

The next week passed by in a daze, the infection settling hard in Arthur’s skin.  He woke up every now and then to Charlotte trying to get him to eat or to Cal unwrapping the bandages and placing some kind of smelly ointment on his shoulder and chest.  Occasionally Arthur would vomit up whatever little food was in his stomach. He hated his body for being so weak, that he couldn’t get up and walk around.

He’d wake up to find Gap tooth staring over him, pressing his dirty hands all over his body, grabbing and torturing where he shouldn't.  Arthur would be in a cold sweat, looking about drastically in the room, forgetting where he was. Charlotte would be by his side, pressing a cold cloth to his forehead, saying soothing words to calm him.

Where was Dutch?  Why hadn’t he found him yet?  

A week and a half later he sat up in his bed, his journal spread wide open, the pencil dull and short.  The infection was gone, leaving him thinner and weaker than ever. His limbs still had little strength and it took much out of him to even write in his journal.

“Who is she?” Charlotte asked him as she sat by him.  She had taken to reading to him while he was sick, though he had only half registered her words.  “You kept saying her name. Sadie, I think?”

“My…” Arthur’s heart ached.  “... a lady I left behind. Someone I miss, very much.”

“What’s she like?”

Arthur closed eyes, picturing her.  “We was just gettin’ to know each other.  We both been through some hard times, but… her, especially.  She lost her husband some time ago, and… she joined my gang. She’s pretty.  Blonde hair, freckles. A temper like you couldn’t imagine. This happened right after we… declared our interest in one another.”

“I’m so sorry,” Charlotte said, her voice soft and kind.  “I hope you’re able to return to her.”

Cal walked into the room then, a basket in his hands.  “Bought you some new clothing,” he said, setting the basket on the table next to him.  “Made a trip into Annesburg. You’re a bit bigger than me, so none of my clothing would have fit you.”

In fact, Arthur was wearing only a loose shirt, the only one Cal had been able to spare.  He had been living in the bed or blankets for the past few weeks.

“No response in the mail?” Arthur asked.  “Nobody in town asking of me?”

“No.  I posted your second letter some time ago, but I’m afraid there’s nothing.”

That left Arthur feeling grim.  He hoped it was only because his gang couldn’t find him, and it wasn’t the Pinkertons, or the O’Driscolls.  Too much could have gone wrong and Arthur wasn’t there to help.

“I also got you a cane,” Cal was saying and picked up a carved staff.  “Your leg is finally on the mend and it’s time to start building that muscle again.”

“I never asked.  Were you a doctor, Cal?  What are you doing here in the middle of nowhere?”  

“No, my pa was though.  I seen him help plenty of people.  I was a banker, honestly. I wanted a simple life, so I moved me and Charlotte up here.”

“I’ll be frank.  You two don’t seem much for the… uncivilized life,” Arthur said, shutting his journal.  “I’m grateful you’re here, don’t get me wrong. You know how to catch anything other than a rabbit?”  

Cal flushed bright red.  “Getting tired of rabbit stew are you?  I admit… I am very green when it comes to hunting.  But we’re surviving.” He patted the basket of clothing near him.  “Tell you what. You get dressed and we’ll go for a walk around the house.”

“Sure.”  

Cal and Charlotte left him alone in the room.  Arthur swung his feet off the side of the bed, grimacing at how heavy his legs felt.  It was almost like he was another man. He still had a job to do; he was still part of the van der Linde gang.  He couldn’t give up now, not when Sadie or the others might be looking for him.

It seemed like an eternity, moving with heavy limbs, but Arthur finally dressed in fresh jeans with a yellow plaid shirt.  He pulled up black suspenders and a new pair of boots; simple, black, but well made. Arthur had given Cal a bunch of money for supplies.  After robbing the bank in Valentine months before, Arthur had stocked up a nice amount of cash he’d been saving up, and he was lucky enough to have kept it in his satchel.  

He scratched his face, still slightly taken aback by the gruff on his face.  He had never really grown out the beard at a long length. He hadn’t wanted to bother shaving it.  He’d leave it, for now.

Cal came back in once Arthur was set, and supported Arthur as he stood, cane in hand.  They hobbled back and forth around the room, Arthur putting the slightest pressure on his foot.  It hadn’t been a clean break, as Cal had described it. He had warned Arthur it might not ever feel the same.  

The days repeated, with Cal helping Arthur walk back and forth and Charlotte watching from the sidelines.  It went from Arthur only walking around the room, to walking to the living room, and eventually, to the outside.  Summer was in full force by the time he walked around the property, using only the cane for support. His leg still ached something awful, but he had been building muscle day by day.  

“You got a rifle?” he asked Cal one bright sunny day.  He was feeling particularly healthy that day and his spirits were high.  He was optimistic he’d be able to leave within the next few days. “Might as well show you how to hunt something larger than a rabbit.”

“Oh. Oh sure,” Cal said, looking up from his book he had been reading.  “What do you have in mind?”

“Deer.  Simple. I’ll show you how to track it.”  He headed to the front door and paused. “You too, Mrs. Balfour.  In my humble opinion, this far out in unknown territory, you best learn too.”

Charlotte smiled and set aside her scarf she had been knitting.  “What do you think, Cal?”

“Why, I think it’s a fine idea.  Let’s go.”

Arthur spent the next few days showing the couple how to track, looking for any signs of deer marks or droppings.  He also set up a shooting course, setting up old bottles along the fence. He had both Cal and Charlotte practice their shooting.

On the third day, Cal managed to successfully track a deer on his own.  He shot it without any hesitation.

“There you go!” Arthur cheered as the deer fell, the shot clear through the head.  “I’ll show you how to skin it, now. It’s a messy job, but it’s gotta be done.”

That night they sat around the table, eating their newest acquisition of venison.  The deer skin was rolled up and ready to be taken into town to be sold.

“Thank you, Arthur,” Cal said, raising a glass to him.  “You were in a sorry state when we found you, but you really helped us, here.  We weren’t doing all that great on our own.” He reached over and squeezed Charlotte’s hand.  

“It’s the only thing I could do,” Arthur said.  “After all, I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for you two.  I wanted to do it before I left.”

Cal nodded.  “I suspected that was the case.  You’re healthy enough to leave, Mr. Morgan.  I hope you can find whoever you’re looking for.”

The next day at dawn break Arthur stood by his horse, pulling out some cash to give to the couple.  “Here. For your trouble.” Cal and Charlotte stood by him, ready to say their goodbyes. Arthur grabbed Cal’s hand and forced the cash in it.  “You’re a good man, Cal. There ain’t many of them out there left. And you, Mrs. Balfour. I dare say you make the best rabbit soup I ever tasted.”

Charlotte hugged him.  “Oh, Mr. Morgan. You were so great to us.  Thank you. I hope you find your Sadie.”

Arthur got on his horse and settled in.  “Mr. and Mrs. Balfour. Be well,” Arthur said and tipped his hat to them.  He clicked his tongue and Roy was off, following the trail out of the forest.  Soon he was on the path to Annesburg, where he would check the mail one last time to see if anyone had responded to him.  He also planned on buying supplies for the road. It was at least several days ride to where the gang was located, if they were still there.  It had been at least a month since Arthur had left and anything could have happened in that time.

A part of him was tempted to run away and stay away.  He was free, no one had found him… but the gang might be in trouble.  He couldn’t stay away, not just yet. He was sure Dutch had sent out men to find him.  Dutch wouldn’t leave Arthur behind, no. He was sure of it.

 


	8. Chapter 8

It was mid afternoon by the time he reached Annesburg.  It was an old mining town, a place where men threw away their lives into the coal mines to support their families.  The whole atmosphere over the town was grim and dark, the air stifling. Arthur harbored no jealousy for the men. They had homes and a family, only to have a life sucking job with little to no reward.    

He stopped by the general store and purchased some food, especially the candies.  He tucked them into his coat pocket and walked out of the store with a small bag. Roy perked his ears once he noticed Arthur had bought some carrots. Arthur relented and fed two to the horse.  

His last stop was the post office.  He was hoping to find a letter waiting for him, an explanation of some sort.  He watched the postman search through letters with anticipation. Once the postman confirmed there were no letters, Arthur tipped his hat and went on his way, grim.

Something had gone wrong if the gang hadn’t responded to his letters.  There was always someone from camp checking the mail every week; as it had been a little over a month, they would have received the three letters Arthur had sent.  His best bet would be to ride directly to Clemen’s Cove. It would be a few days until he could make it to the camp.

It took three days for Arthur to make his way into Rhodes.  He was covered in grime and reddish dust from the road, half tempted to stop for a bath and some food.  He figured it was best he continued on and he hurried Roy to go faster.

The weather was just as warm as he remembered; he had taken off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves.  A train sounded in the distance as Arthur found the hidden path that led to camp. None of the tracks were recent; that was not good.  

Worry coursed through him as he navigated through the trees, following the overgrown path which led to the small clearing by the lake.  Nobody was on the lookout. The gang had clearly moved on. He neared the clearing and felt a bit of relief when there was no hint of a struggle or bloodshed.  The camp had clearly up and left.

Locating them would be difficult.  His main guess would be east, which is where the gang seemed to be headed to these days.  He would inquire at the Rhode’s saloon and maybe head to St. Denis, where he had yet to go to.  

He did one last check around camp, riding up and down the bank.  He deemed it was clear until a small structure caught his eye. A wooden cross, staked into the ground.  The dirt was nearly freshly dug, not yet covered with grass. Arthur hopped off Roy and slowly approached the cross, his chest tightening.  He was afraid to look, but he must.

Small words were etched on the wood and Arthur struggled to breathe.   _Sean McGuire._ The Irish lad Arthur had viewed as a brother.  An annoying one, but still a brother.

Arthur took off his hat and kneeled by the grave.  “You were an annoyin’ bastard, but…” He went silent.  A job must’ve gone bad. It could have been the O’Driscoll’s, the Pinkertons… there had been no blood at camp.  It must’ve happened somewhere nearby.

Rhodes would be his best bet.  He took off, angry at the turn of events.  Ever since Blackwater, things have turned to shit.  Ever since Micah.

Once he was near the saloon, he hitched his horse and wandered inside.  He figured he would ask the barkeep what’s the current situation.

“I’m sure you heard of the Braithwaite family?” the barkeep said, pouring a shot of whiskey.  He set it in front of Arthur.

“No,” Arthur said.  “I’m afraid I been out of town.”

“Murdered.  The whole family.  House burned down. It’s said a gang did it.  Must’ve been the gang that killed a whole bunch of men in town.  Nasty business, the lot of them.” The barkeep had a bite to his voice.  “Served several of the men here, now they gone, thanks to that gang.”

“Sounds like this town has seen enough bloodshed,” Arthur murmured and downed his shot of whiskey.  “They catch the men?”

“They ain’t been seen around no more,” the barkeep shrugged.  “We know who to look for, though.”

Arthur had another shot of whiskey and left the saloon, feeling numb.  He knew it was his gang; it would explain why Sean had died. Why had Dutch involved himself in the Braithwaite and Grey families?  For the money that Dutch always claimed was there? Arthur doubted it was worth it. After the loss of Sean, who would be next?

His next bet would be St. Denis.  If he estimated right, he could make it into town by late evening.  He would make sure to feed Roy extra carrots. He had been a good horse so far, even with Arthur pushing him.  After Arthur found his gang, he’d make sure to give Roy lots of rest.

As Arthur went east, he grimly noticed how dirty the roads had become.  It was the pure fact everything was muddy and the flies were horrendous.  The sun was setting as he passed through the bayou and he lit his lantern, not wanting to come across any alligators on the road.  So far he’d seen scaly eyes gazing at him from the murky waters, though none seemed persistent in wanting to eat him. He hated the thought of wandering into waters infested with the creatures.  It was a gruesome way to die.

He was only a mile out from St. Denis when he came across a fresh body hanging from a tree.  He could hear the flies and see the wounds upon the person; not only had the person been hung, they’d been stabbed multiple times.  Arthur held his nose against the stench and continued on, not wanting to know what horrors could have caused it.

It was just as well.  He heard rustling around him from the bushes and he urged Roy to break out into a gallop.  This part of the bayou was dark, thick with forest foliage. Nearly perfect place for an ambush.  Arthur had little patience; he wanted to find his gang. He didn’t slow down Roy until he was on a main bridge, St. Denis clearly ahead of him.

It was rare he had seen a city as large as St. Denis.  Tall buildings lay compacted together with a person crossing every street corner.  Large plumes of dark smoke hid the stars from view. Street urchins ran down a street with some por sod following them, most likely having his coin purse stolen.  Beggars sat on the side of the street, calling out for money. Arthur dropped a coin in one - the man was blind. _In a city like this, maybe it was better to be blind,_ Arthur mused.  It’s dirty, loud, and everything seems pretentious and fake.  Nobody cared.

He made his way into the saloon after making sure Roy was safely squared away.  It was full of people dressed in suits and fancy dresses; much different from the saloons Arthur was used to.  It felt too pristine.

He ordered whiskey and a meal, eavesdropping on the conversations around him.  Nothing caught his attention; everything seemed normal. He finished his meal and went up to the room he had rented.  It had cost him more than he had wanted, but supposed that was city life. If one wanted to fit in, one had to be rich.  

He looked at himself in the mirror and concluded he did not fit in.  His clothes were new, but simple, rough cotton and dirty from riding hard on the road.  Everyone in the city probably bathed regularly too, a luxury Arthur only dreamed of having.

He went to bed, sinking into the silk sheets, feeling like a buffoon.

The next day was spent with him traveling through St. Denis, listening for anything he could.  A glimpse of someone he knew or a bank robbery, or something. Only thing of interest seemed to be a grave robbing - the van der Linde gang wouldn’t stoop so low.  Arthur pushed away the idea.

Only one place came to mind and he set off after lunch, thinking of the time he had run a job with Lenny.  It had been an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere, with only Lemoyne Raiders taking residence. Arthur and Lenny had disposed of them and stole their guns to boot.  It was secluded and out of the way; not many people would venture to that area.

If Arthur had had to up and leave the camp, he would have escorted them to Shady Belle.  He only hoped Lenny had suggested it. Otherwise, Arthur would have to keep searching.

He was almost grateful he hadn’t heard of any outlaws in St. Denis - it meant the gang was laying low, which is what they needed after attracting attention.  Arthur loved the gang, fought for them, saved them - but the past few months, they were becoming outdated. Nobody had patience for them anymore. Everyone was moving on, getting a life, following a certain set of rules - which Dutch hated.  

Staying with the Balfours had made Arthur realize how _tired_ he was.  It was a life he thought he’d never want, but the stability would be better than sleeping in tents the rest of his life.

He felt his chest tighten and he coughed into his sleeve.  Christ. He figured he was still recovering from being sick; the cough was the only thing not to go away.  

He past the old church which indicated he was close to Shady Belle.  He encouraged Roy to go faster, following the old path towards the forgotten mansion.  Sure enough -

“Who goes there?” he heard Bill call out.

“It’s me, Arthur!” He went past Bill without further explanation.  He wanted to see Sadie, Hosea, Dutch, John - he was ready to be home.  

He crossed the small bridge in front of the large mansion, which stood tall and forgotten, cracked and broken in places.  He saw the familiar tents and people walking around, carrying on as usual. They all stared at him in wonder, mouths wide.

“Uncle Arthur!” Jack was the first one to say something.  He ran towards him, little feeting splashing against the muddy trails.  

Arthur hopped off his horse and picked up Jack, crunching him into a hug.  “Jack! How ya doin’, boy?”

“We missed you!” Jack said, his face flushed with delight.  Abigail was rushing towards him.

Soon Arthur was surrounded by everyone, question after question.  “You’re not dead!” Uncle was saying.

Tilly hugged Arthur.  “I knew it! You a survivor, Arthur!”

Arthur nodded from person to person, returning hugs and handshakes here and there.  He passed Jack off to Abigail and asked her, “Where’s Sadie?”

“Headed to St. Denis not too long ago,” Abigail reassured him.  “She been trackin’ you down, Arthur. She caught some wind about a couple O’Driscolls that were captured and to be hanged in St. Denis.  She went to get information.” She set Jack down and shooed him away. “She missed you somethin’ awful.”

“I just left St. Denis,” Arthur sighed.  “Where’s Dutch?”

“He should be returnin’ from the city soon, along with Micah,” Ms. Grimshaw said.  She had a smile on her face; she was pleased he was back. “Where were you, Arthur?”

“It’s a long story.”  Arthur grabbed his cane from the saddle.  His leg was aching from putting too much weight on it.

Hosea walked up just then.  His face seemed older, lined with wrinkles Arthur hadn’t noticed before.  The older man had such a wide smile on his face, Arthur couldn’t help but return it.  They embraced, Hosea patting Arthur on the back.

“I thought you were dead, son,” Hosea said, his voice rough.  He pulled away and looked Arthur over. “What happened to you?”  
“The O’Driscoll’s captured me.  I escaped, but I was sick. Almost died.  I’m glad you guys make it out safely. It was a trap.”

“We know.  After you never showed up, Dutch and Micah came back to camp.  Charles and Sadie scouted, came across an O’Driscoll and, well…” Hosea shrugged.  The two of them walked to sit around the campfire, the others of the camp leaving them alone.  “They got information the hard way. Once we found out Pinkertons were involved, Dutch said it was best to wait to retrieve you.  He was gonna come up with somethin’. Then the mess happened in Rhodes… Jack was kidnapped…”

They hadn’t outright searched for him.  Sadie and Charles had but not Dutch. Arthur shook his head, not quite understanding.  “How was Jack kidnapped?”

“Had to do with the Braithwaite and Grey family.  They set us up, killed Sean…” Hosea said. He rubbed his eyes.  Bags existed under his eyes where they hadn’t before. “Sadie, Charles, John, they kept searching for you.  We all did. Micah argued it was too dangerous. He said he’d go find proof. It was last week he came back with your hat and shirt, which was covered in blood.”  Hosea got up and walked over to an old chest and opened it, the lid creaking. He pulled out Arthur’s hat, which had belonged to Arthur’s father.

Arthur hadn’t thought he’d see it again.  He accepted it from Dutch and stared at it, not sure what he was feeling.  Contempt, maybe. Possibly a bit bitter. “So he said I was dead?”

“He assumed.  It was enough to convince Dutch.  Not enough to convince the others.  Sadie’s still searching. John is with her.”  Hosea started coughing then. He pulled out a handkerchief and leaned away, coughing into it.  

“You okay?”

“It’s fine,” Hosea said, waving assuredly at him.  He cleared his throat and folded the handkerchief. “I’m just glad you’re back, Arthur.  We missed you around here.”

“Not enough for Dutch, obviously.”  Arthur put on the hat and stood. He grabbed his cane and started pacing back and forth.  It was anger he was trying to hold back. “How much money did we get from the Braithwaite family?”

“Not much.  We had to leave.  Dutch is working on another way to get money,” Hosea said, his voice skeptical.  “We’ve been invited to a party at the Mayor’s house by Angelo Bronte. Dutch thinks there’s money in it.”

Plan after plan.  Failure after failure.  “Did Dutch ever search for me, Hosea?”

Hosea hesitated.  “We all did, those who could-”

“Did Dutch himself search for me?”

“He did not.”

“I been-” Arthur nearly choked on the words.  He stilled, his hand clenching his cane. “I was tortured.  I didn’t give anythin’ to the O’Driscolls. I escaped, posted you lot letters.  Explained where I was.”

“I understand.  We checked Rhodes, when we could - it may have been too late.  Not many of us can head back into Rhodes. It’s too dangerous.”

Arthur looked over the camp, silently fuming.  He was grateful to the ones who had searched for him, especially Sadie.  His loyalty hadn’t meant much, in the end. Not to Dutch. Arthur hadn’t been worth searching for.  Dutch had been like a father to him. He’d do anything for Dutch. He already had by putting up with Dutch’s stupid plans.  

He caught sight of his old tent, his cot a mess with bags and items that were not Sadie’s or his.  “Sadie didn’t get my tent while I was gone?”

“Micah laid claim,” Hosea said.  “Said you was gone, never officially declared anything with Sadie.  Sadie’s been sleeping with the other women, as she had before.”

“How has Micah been?”  His voice was strained.

Hosea snorted.  “Awful. Putting ideas in Dutch’s head he don’t need.  Fair warning. He won’t like it you’re back.” Hosea stood and motioned his head toward the entrance of the camp.  Dutch and Micah strolled in and hopped off their horses, handing the reins to Kieran, who had been talking with Mary-Beth.  She wandered off, leveling a glare at Micah.

Arthur could see the contempt between them.  Nobody liked Micah, yet Dutch did. Why was Dutch blind to it?  Arthur walked up to greet the two men, his leg aching, needing a rest from walking on it for too long.  

When the two men caught sight of him, Micah blanched.  Dutch stilled, then broke out into a smile. “Arthur!”

They met on the small bridge.  Arthur shook Dutch’s hand, feeling cold.  “Good to see you, Dutch.”

“You’re alive!”  Dutch cheered, looking Arthur up and down.  “How is this possible? You always manage to surprise me.”

“Ain’t it a big surprise,” Micah said meekly.  He was as disheveled as ever and in need of a wash.  He shoved by Arthur and sauntered over to his tent. “Welcome back, cowpoke.”

Arthur didn’t feel like explaining.  “I need to find Sadie. Kieran, if you could be so kind to get Roy ready.”  He looked towards the younger man, who rushed to get it done. Kieran had been one of the ones to greet him excitedly.  He liked the man. He had continued to show kindness to the gang, yet still chose to sleep away from everybody.

“But you only got back!  We can celebrate tonight before our big day tomorrow!” Dutch said.  He wrapped an arm around Arthur’s shoulders and navigated him towards the camp.  “Just in time, too. I been plannin’ something, could use your help tomorrow. Gotta get you cleaned up, though.  Can’t have you attendin’ a party with a beard like that.”

“You ain’t gonna pressure me for more details, Dutch?”

“We have time-”

“I for sure did not,” Arthur spat and shrugged Dutch’s arm off.  “I been loyal to you from the moment you found me. I helped you.  Got captured and tortured because of you and your plan. Why don’t you ever listen to us, Dutch?  What happened to you?”

Dutch’s eyebrows narrowed and his eyes flashed.  “Look here. We were worried, of course. I had to take care of everyone else.  I had to make sure they were safe. I didn’t forget about you, son. I could never.”

“There wasn’t a body,” Arthur said, his voice cracking.  “I was still alive. The Dutch I knew would not have stopped searchin’ for me.  I’m glad you found out it was a trap before it was too late. But the mess in Rhodes?  The Braithwaite? This new plan you doin’? What’s gonna come of this, Dutch?”

“Perhaps bein’ gone too long has made him doubtful,” Micah said loudly.  He held a bottle in his hand. “You forgot what it meant to be loyal, Arthur.”

“I didn’t forget.  We keep runnin’ away because we keep messin’ up-”

“I have a plan,” Dutch said sternly.  “It’s going to work, Arthur. I need some faith.  Is that too hard to ask?”

“Maybe it is.” Arthur backed away and went to his horse.  “I gotta find Sadie.”

“We could use your help!” Dutch called after him.

“Looks like you haven’t needed it!” Arthur was about to get on his horse when he heard Molly.

“He’s right,” Molly was saying.  She stood in front of Dutch, face as red as her hair and traveling bag in hand.  She was dressed in her green traveling clothes. “You don’t listen, Dutch! You haven’t for a long time!”

“This isn’t about us!” Dutch roared.  He stomped away, not bothering to console her.  “Your feelings are not my problem!”

“I’m tired of livin’ like this!  We’ve turned into nothin’ but lowlife criminals!” Molly called after him.  She walked towards Arthur and threw the bag at his chest. He caught it by surprise, nearly dropping it.  “Take me to St. Denis, Arthur. That’s where Sadie is. It’s where I’m stayin’.”

Arthur tied the bag to the back of the saddle.  He knew Dutch and Molly’s relationship had been strained - he’d heard them starting to argue.  It had been coming for months now. Since Arthur had dared question Dutch, he supposed it was enough for Molly to finally say something as well.

Hosea wandered up to them once they were ready to go.  Molly sat on the back of Arthur’s horse, sniffling back tears.  “You’ll be coming back, won’t you Arthur?” Hosea asked.

“You’re my family, Hosea.  But I gotta find out who I am, first.  I done a whole lot of thinking this past month.”

“I been telling you to do that for years,” Hosea chuckled.  “Sad it had to happen this way.”

“I’ll be back,” Arthur confirmed and set off, leaving the van der Linde gang behind.

Molly broke down into uncontrollable sobs once the camp was far behind them. Arthur could feel her cry into the back of his shirt, the tears soaking the fabric and her fingers clenching the sides of his shirt.

“He didn’t love me,” Molly blubbered.  “He been lookin’ at Mary-Beth, I know it.  He hasn’t cared for me for awhile, he won’t listen.”

Arthur knew this to be true, as much as he hated to admit it.  He had come across Dutch approaching Mary-Beth several times, flattering her in affectionate ways.  Mary-Beth had passed it off as nothing, but Arthur knew Dutch. The older man had moved on and set his sights on someone else.  Dutch hadn’t done that much in the past. He had had Annabelle. And then she was gone.

“You have means to survive, Molly?” Arthur asked her.  He would hate to drop her off in St. Denis without anything.

“I have enough money to connect with my family, if I must,” Molly replied.  “I’m a lady - not meant to live like this. I still love him, you know. I been loyal to him.  He can’t see it.”

 _He will never see it,_ Arthur thought. _The old Dutch would have._

Arthur and Molly continued riding in silence, her sniffles filling the silence every now and then. They both had gone through the same thing in different ways, Arthur realized grimly: replaced by someone else.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading so far!


	9. Chapter 9

The moon was high in the sky once Arthur said goodbye to Molly.  He dropped her off at the saloon he had been in the night before, her mannerisms fitting right in with the ritzy lifestyle.  There was little words between them, only an understanding. Both were done with Dutch at the moment; both were hurt. Arthur left her alone and sought out the other saloons of St. Denis, intent on finding Sadie and John.

By this time at night, only beggars and lowlifes walked the streets.  Arthur made sure to keep his wits about him, not wanting his money stolen.  The street urchins were plentiful, at least one child on every corner. 

It could have been Arthur, had he not been taken in by Dutch.  Being only fourteen and his father dead for three years, Arthur could have followed in his father's footsteps, gotten arrested and hung at a much younger age. Dutch had been there to teach him the  _ right _ ways of being an outlaw.  Despite living in the ways of crime, it was for the greater good.  As an outlaw, you had freedom, no restrictions, a way to stand out from the normalities of society.  

It was a romanticized viewpoint of life.  Dutch believed it. Arthur believed it. 

Until Dutch had shot that girl in Blackwater.  It was not the way the van der Linde gang behaved.  As outlaws, they stole from the rich to benefit the poor.  Circumstances began to change. The slaughter of Strawberry, busting Micah out.  The showdown in Rhodes, whatever that mess had been. 

Jenny.  Davey. Mac.  Sean. All lost over Dutch’s change in ideals.  

Once upon a time, Arthur had been scolded for robbing a poor man.  Nowadays, nobody in the gang would bat an eye. The gang was purely focused on surviving outside of society.

Arthur wasn’t perfect, he knew that.  Sadie was reminiscent of who Arthur used to be and could still be.  Arrogant, strong headed, trigger happy. Ready for answers to the life given them.

He hoped he found her soon.  He missed her something awful.

He ended up on the cheaper side of town, finally spotting the familiar horses he had been looking for.  Bob and Old Boy, Sadie’s and John’s horses, were hitched outside a shady saloon. Arthur felt the relief he had felt before he had found Shady Belle.  Time for answers - time to see if Sadie still wanted him. 

It had been one night between them.  They hadn’t had time to discuss much.  She had kept searching for him. He figured that meant something.

He hitched Roy right beside Bob and gave the other two horses’ an affectionate pat.  He took a deep breath, then marched through the saloon doors. He saw the blond hair first, pulled back into a braid.  She was leaned over on the table, head in her arms. John sat next to her, a mug of beer in his hand. He turned to see Arthur and spat out whatever was in his mouth. 

“Sadie,” John said as he put a hand on her shoulder and shook it.  “Look who it is.”

Sadie blearily lifted her head and turned.  Heavy eyes met Arthur’s, uncomprehending at first.  Then everything clicked and she bolted to Arthur. 

“You…!” Sadie raged, barreling into Arthur.  She beat lightly on his shoulder with a fist.  “You bastard, we been searchin’ everywhere!”

“I know-”

“And now you show up out of nowhere!” Sadie sobbed.  She stopped moving and went still, tears in her eyes.  “I can’t lose two men one after the other. He told us you was dead.”

“I might as well have been, Sadie.”  Arthur reached out and cupped her cheek in his hand.  She leaned into it, sniffling hard. “They got me, the O’Driscolls.  I was hurt.” He finally took her in his arms and held her close. “I found my way back.”

Sadie held him with a bone crushing strength.  “I was so intent on rescuin’ you. John and I have been searchin’ nonstop.”

“Sadie, mostly,” John said, walking over.  He clapped Arthur on the back. “We missed ya, Arthur.  But I had to stop for a bit. You heard Jack was kidnapped?”

Arthur nodded. “I heard.  Glad the little boy was found.”

“John helped immensely, otherwise.  Him and Charles. Even Kieran wanted to help, despite bein’ an O’Driscoll.”  Sadie pulled away so she could look at John. “We heard O’Driscoll’s were arrested here, but they ain’t nothin’ but grunts - recent recruits.  They wouldn’t know anythin’ about you.” She looked all over Arthur then, taking him into account. She saw the cane. “How hurt were you?”

“I’d like to sit and explain,” Arthur said.  They moved to a table, stained with who knows what.  Arthur lifted his leg to rest on the broken chair next to him.  He began by explaining how he had been captured, then slowly showed the scars from his wounds, leaving out the part about Gap tooth.  The thought of the greasy man was enough to make Arthur feel sick. 

John and Sadie both had grim expressions as Arthur pushed aside his shirt, revealing the red but healed gunshot wound.  

“Shit, I wouldn’t’ve hit you there if I’d known,” Sadie said sheepishly.  

“It was barely a hit,” Arthur reassured her and patted his leg.  “My leg was broken, as well. It’ll heal, and I can walk for a good hour or so.  I just gotta give it a bit of time. A few more weeks and I’ll be back to normal.”

“You seen Dutch?” John inquired.

“Seen him.  Argued with him.  Heard about the mess in Rhodes.”  Arthur leaned back and ran a hand through his beard.  “He moved on without me. Replaced me, even, with Micah.”

“Micah has a hand in everythin’, now,” Sadie said.  “He been in Dutch’s pocket ever since you been gone.”

Arthur took out a cigarette and lit it.  “I’ll be honest. Now I’m back I don’t… like what Dutch is doin’.”  He took a long drag of the cigarette. “I took Molly to a saloon. She left the gang.  Had enough, apparently.”

“They been fightin’ every night,” John affirmed.  “Dutch has a plan, been talkin’ about it. He plans to go along with this Angelo Bronte.  He thinks there’s money in it. He recruited you, I imagine?”

“Tried to.”  

“You gonna do it?”

Arthur patted the cigarette on the tray, the ashes falling.  He shrugged. “Everyone seems to be real fine without me. I lived this past month without havin’ to worry about the law, O’Driscoll’s.... I think I am startin’ to see it differently, John.  Dutch is headed down an old path. Nobody wants us outlaws no more.”

“Abigail…” John leaned on the table and ran his hands down his face.  “She been sayin’ the same thing. She wants out. For Jack.”

“Kieran and Mary-Beth been sweet on each other,” Sadie said.  “Mary-Beth keeps goin’ on and on about where they could go. But they scared to move because of the O’Driscoll’s.  Kieran’s deathly afraid what they’d do to him.”

“What about our loyalty to Dutch?” John asked, looking at the two of them.  “Mostly you, Arthur. You and me been with him since we were teenagers. He supported us, raised us, fed us… to suddenly up and leave…”

“Is Dutch the same as he was when we was kids?” Arthur looked him evenly in the eye.  “I love that man like a father. But our loyalty is to our gang, John. Everybody is unhappy.  Karen’s always blunt about it. We gotta save each other. I ain’t abandoning the gang. I ain’t.  But I need to look elsewhere.” He reached over and put his hand over Sadie’s, who gave him a small smile.  “I know you have your own agenda, Sadie. I’m with you until you’re ready.”

John let out a long, frustrated sigh.  “I’ll talk it over with Abigail. I know she’ll be on board.  I just see Micah labeling us as traitors and Dutch goin’ along with it.”

“We need to deal with Micah.  Not sure how. He been actin’ all like he’s in command,” Sadie spat.  “He been teasin’ the girls more, even suggesting they come back with him to his tent.”

“The tent shoulda been yours,” Arthur said.  “Dutch would’ve made sure of that.”

Sadie leveled a glare at the ashtray.  “Dutch don’t let me do anythin’.”

John stood, the chair creaking against the floor.  He straightened his clothing. “If we were to leave the gang, where do we go?  What do we do? We outlaws. There’s not much for us besides what we already do.”

“We find somethin’ new.”  Arthur squished the cigarette butt into the ashtray.  “I been thinkin’. I have friends who I’ll talk to, see if they have ideas.  The Balfours, the ones who helped me.  They was livin’ on their own and survivin’.  I might ride out and see them.” 

“Fair enough.  I better start headin’ into camp now that you’re found,” John said and patted Arthur on the back.  “It’s good you’re back, Arthur. Sadie, you hang in there.” He tipped his hat and walked out, his boots clicking against the floor.

Once he was gone, Arthur didn’t know what to say.  His hand was still over Sadie’s. He opened his mouth and was about to say something.

“I-”

“We-”

The two chuckled as they tried to talk at the same time.  “You first,” Arthur relented.

“I have a hotel room here, down the street,” Sadie said, her voice a bit hesitant.  “We can talk back there. I feel like the barkeep has been starin’ us down.”

“It’s probably past closin’ time.  Let’s go.” Arthur followed her out of the saloon, hand in hand.  It had been years since he held hands with a woman - last time might have been with Mary.  It was oddly nice. 

They broke off to grab their horses, leading them just down the block.  Once they were squared away, Arthur followed her into a hotel. It was kept up better than the saloon had been but not as ritzy as the saloon Molly had gone to.  Paint was fading here and there, yet the furniture was kept clean and was simply decorated. 

Sadie led him upstairs and into a small room which contained a bed, small wooden dresser, and a face washing station.  One small loveseat sat against the wall, looking out of place in the small room. 

Arthur dropped his pack and sat down on the loveseat, taking off his hat to set aside on a small side table.

“I see you have your hat back,” Sadie mentioned, sitting beside him.  “Micah brought that back. Splattered with blood. I cleaned it up best I could.”

“I don’t know if it was my blood.  Pretty sure I lost it before they started… torturin',” Arthur said lamely.  “It was my father’s hat.”

“Must have been a good man if you keep it.”

“I wouldn’t say good.  He was a criminal, a lowlife.  Hung when I was eleven. I guess I keep the hat to remember who I could become if I’m not careful.”

Sadie leaned over and let her head rest on his shoulder.  “Do you see yourself becomin’ him if you stay with Dutch? Is that why you feel this way?”

“I.... hadn’t thought of it that way.”  Arthur nuzzled the top of her head with his face, breathing in the scent of her.  She smelled like she been riding for days on end. He didn’t mind. He probably didn’t smell much better.  “I suppose.”

“I missed ya,” Sadie murmured.  “It been hard without you.”

Arthur kissed her hair softly.  “I kept thinkin’ of you when I was bound to bed.  I left you too soon. I figured you wouldn’t want to have me back.”

“No, on the contrary… it made me want you more.”  Sadie leaned back and stared at him, her eyes searching his.  “You a good man. I know you don’t see it or believe it. I didn’t think you outlaws had souls, decency… but you proved it different.  I like you, Arthur Morgan. If you’d have me.”

Arthur could see the trust in her eyes, the love.  It stirred something in him he hadn’t felt for a long time.  He picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles. “The question is, if you’d have me.  I’m an old fool, an outlaw, no means. I’ve committed sins all my life. I can’t provide you land, a house - at least not yet.  I still have to support my gang, see them out, and I know you have means to avenge your husband. We figure it out. Together.”

“Together,” Sadie whispered.  

Arthur pulled her closer and sealed his lips against her, letting his hands run down her back.  They didn't hold back. The two were breathless as they moved, stealing kisses, fumbling with each other’s clothing.  Arthur grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her to sit on him, pressing her against his body.

Sadie pulled down his suspenders and laughed as Arthur rubbed his gangly beard along her neck. 

“We’re shaving that off in the mornin’,” she gasped as he bit into her neck.

“Mhmm,” Arthur agreed, continuing his teasing.  He unbuttoned her yellow shirt, pushing it off, exposing her breasts.  The nipples were hard, asking for pleasing. He obliged, pulling her closer, letting his tongue explore the depth of her breasts.  He heard Sadie’s sharp intake as he sucked on a breast, letting his hand explore the other. 

He wanted her at that instant.  He pulled away and focused on her pants, which she stepped off him to shake off.  She kneeled in front of him, moving to unbutton his own pants. He leaned over and untied her braid, wanting to see the tresses in all their glory.  

He let out a small gasp as his member was released from its confinement into the hands of the beautiful lady.  He watched through hazy eyes as she touched her lips to his member, running her tongue up and down the shaft. His hands clenched her hair as she enveloped him with his mouth, moving up and down, her tongue teasing the tip. 

“Christ,” Arthur muttered, shivers shooting through his spine.  “Christ, Sadie…”

She moved with faster speed and he knew he wouldn’t be able to last.  He nudged her up and pulled her onto the loveseat, capturing her mouth in his.  It tasted of body, sweat, and sex - he needed her terribly. 

It took a simple movement of Sadie moving her body down, her knees pressed on either side of Arthur, and his member was encased in her folds.  She gasped as she moved slowly in a rhythm. She kissed him ever so lightly, then moved her head back as she thrust up and down. Arthur let her take control, grabbing her nipples with his mouth, grasping her butt in his hands.

He stood up suddenly, pinning her against him as he walked over to the bed.  He set her down on her back, breaking the connection between them, and climbed over her, spreading her legs apart.  He let his tongue tease her, flicking over the nub of her womanhood, sending her gasping and crying out as he continued to pleasure her.  

All it was a few seconds before she was curving her back, her fingers digging into his hair, her increased huffs of air.  He broke away and ripped off his shirt - the room was unbearably hot - then was on her in a second, pinning her against the bed, thrusting and gasping as they moved as one.  

He increased speed as he held her legs, holding her tight, unable to control himself.  He felt himself burst and a wave of pleasure came over him. He shuddered, letting himself dwell in the feeling.  He could hear Sadie sigh as he pulled away to sink by her, holding her close to him.

Sadie kissed his cheek; he kissed her forehead in return. The smell of sweat and sex was still high in the air. His heart was beating fast, but it also felt fulfilled.

Nobody had made him feel like that in a long, long time.

* * *

 

The next morning they both determined they were in need of a bath.  Arthur went downstairs and rented it for an hour, grabbing two cups of coffee along the way.  Sadie was still half dressing herself when he walked back into the room, her hair in disarray about her shoulders.  

“Here ya go,” Arthur said, handing her a cup of steaming coffee.  

She accepted it and grimaced at the bitterness of it.  “Strong stuff.”

“We’re gonna need it.  It’ll be a few days ride to the Balfour’s… if you’re willin’ to go with me.”

“Of course.  I heard of an O’Driscoll camp up there, anyhow.  I want to seek them out along the way, if that’s okay with you,” Sadie suggested.  

“Are you plannin’ on gettin’ rid of all of them?” 

“Maybe.  I won’t stop until Colm is dead.  I’m also huntin’ for one in particular.” 

Sadie’s voice had tightened.  Arthur didn’t want to push the subject.  “The baths are ready. We best go while it’s still warm.”

They gathered their belongings and made their way downstairs to the bath.  One lady stood outside, dressed in an elaborate dress, with one sleeve falling off her shoulder.  “I take it you won’t need help?” the lady asked Arthur, looking him up and down.

“We can manage just fine,” Arthur confirmed and went through the door.  Sadie shut it and locked it behind her. 

“What would she do?  Clean you? And you okay with that?” Sadie asked, an eyebrow raised. 

“I dunno,” Arthur shrugged, uncomfortable with the question.  He had paid a lady to help bathe him before. He could never think of what to say, always saying something stupid.  Nothing had happened; he had had to stop the lady from exploring every crevice of his body. He hadn’t asked for their help since.

Arthur began shrugging out of his clothes.  “Do you want the bath first?”

“You go ahead, I gotta work out the tangles in my hair.”

He stripped down, feeling suddenly shy of his nakedness.  They’d done it twice now, for heaven's sake. In the moment, they’d admired each other’s bodies, explored every curve.  This was no different, he chided himself. It wasn’t every day he would get naked in front of someone he loved.

He lowered himself into the tub and reflected on that.  Love. He hadn’t said it. Neither had she. He had forgotten what it felt like; the emphasis of the word.  It meant he had someone to care for, to provide for. He looked over to Sadie and knew the answer was yes. She was what it meant.

He scrubbed fiercely, digging the dirt out from under his nails and skin.  Sadie had since finished untangling her hair and undressed, sitting on a stool by the tub.  She grabbed a cloth and ran it down his shoulders. 

“You lost weight,” she remarked, the cloth warm against his skin.

“Being sick took a lot out of me,” Arthur agreed.  “I’ll get my muscles back, don’t you worry.”

“Oh, I’m not.”  She was silent as she scrubbed his back, tracing her fingers over the small scars on his body.  “You been through a lot, Arthur. I’m just glad you’re back.”

Arthur grabbed her hand and kissed it.  “Me too, Sadie.”

* * *

Arthur and Sadie walked down the streets of St. Denis, leaving the horses where they were.  They had decided to grab some breakfast at a fancier restaurant as a treat to themselves. If they were going to be on the road again, they wanted a full stomach.

They chose a quaint breakfast place which boasted decent prices and sat down at a tiny booth.  The building was decorated with a bunch of flowers and more floral decoration. It felt older, with rips in fabric hidden conveniently here and there.

“This is nice,” Sadie said, looking around.  “I ain’t used to this.”

“I ain’t either,” Arthur said, looking over the menu.  “Sure is a nice change from Pearson’s stew, I imagine.”

“Ms. Grimshaw kept having Charles give her spices to sneak into the pot,” Sadie laughed.  

“Come on now, it ain’t that bad.”

“It is.”

Once their food was served, Sadie grabbed a biscuit and spread a healthy amount of butter on it.  “You know, Arthur… last night was the first night in awhile I hadn’t had a nightmare. It’s been so difficult and I just been goin’ crazy lookin’ for clues.  Ran into a few O’Driscolls here and there, but none could say where you gone. I’m just relieved we can move on.”

“I’m glad,” Arthur said.  “I didn’t meant to hurt you with this.”

“Ain’t your fault and never was.”

Arthur grabbed a piece of toast and scraped a couple of hashbrowns on top.  “You okay with leaving the gang for at least a week? I don’t have a plan. I just gotta make sure everyone knows where they’re goin’...”

“You can’t provide it all for everyone, Arthur.”

“No.  But I can give them the right ideas.  I know Hosea been doin’ that with Lenny.  Lenny’s a good kid. He deserves more than this gang can give him.  Same for Mary-Beth, Tilly…” Arthur chewed thoughtfully on his toast.  “We just draggin’ them along at this point, further into a mess. I ain’t gonna leave them high and dry, not when it’s partially my fault.”

Sadie patted her mouth a napkin.  “It’s Micah. Him pressurin’ Dutch to make stupid decisions.”

Arthur was inclined to agree but didn’t say it.

After breakfast, the two headed back toward the horses.  Arthur was still munching on a piece of toasted garlic bread when someone caught his eye.  A woman leaning against a building. “I know you. Mrs. Downes? Is that you?” 

The woman was dressed in nothing but a light top and torn skirt.  She looked at him, her face uncomprehending. Her face was skinnier than he remembered, her skin pale with heavy bags under her eyes.  She wore an excess of makeup with her hair tied back loosely.

Mrs. Downes backed away, suddenly looking frightened.  “No… not you… oh lord…” She ran down the street toward a blue clad officer. 

“Mrs. Downes!” Arthur called after her.  Sadie put a hand on his arm, cautioning him back.  What had happened to Mrs. Downes since he had last seen her?

“Help!” Mrs. Downes shouted at the officer, pointing towards Arthur. The officer moved towards Arthur and motioned to a few of his other officers further down the road.  They began to march towards Arthur, shouting at him to stay still. 

“Shit,” Arthur cursed, grabbed Sadie’s hand, and ran.  

 


	10. Chapter 10

Arthur held tight onto Sadie’s hand, ducking into an alley, hoping it wasn’t a dead end.  There was an iron gate partly closed at the end of the alley, leading into a side road. Forgotten boxes littered the side of the alley, which was covered in dirt and debris.  Not many people passed through here, save for the street urchins and rats.

Arthur peeked through the gate, making sure it was clear of police officers, and ran across the road to the next alley.  Their horses were several blocks away. They’d have to hop on and run for it as quick as they could. Arthur didn’t want to get arrested for a crime he hadn’t committed.

“What did you do?” Sadie hissed as they neared the end of the other alley.  She broke ahead and peered around the corner. Arthur followed suit and caught sight of the bright blue uniform; he yanked Sadie back and pinned her against the wall, the shadows of the building hiding them well.

“I’ll explain her later,” Arthur breathed.  “For now, we have to get out of here.”

“Never been in a chase like this before,” Sadie remarked, smirking up at him.  She was inches from his face, her body pressed against his.

Christ, she was attractive, with her face flushed from excitement and her eyes flickering with attitude.  “If this was another time, I’d have you now,” Arthur murmured, and caught her lips in his with a brisk kiss. “But I’m afraid it’ll have to wait.”

Once the patrol had their back turned, Arthur and Sadie crossed the street, ducking around a corner.  A sharp tick of pain shot up through Arthur’s leg. He stumbled, falling partially against Sadie and the wall.  

“My leg ain’t cut out for this,” Arthur groaned.  He stood back up and pointed to a building nearby.  “Let’s go in there.”

They ran behind fancy, freshly painted apartments, climbing onto a fence to access the tiled roof.  Arthur hopped up to the roof first, pulling himself up with a grunt. Sadie followed suit, with Arthur grabbing her hand and lifting her up.

They scaled quietly across the roof, their shoes clicking against the tiles.  Arthur spotted the horses and whistled. Roy and Bob came over at once, hovering just below the roof.  

“You want us to jump onto them from here?” Sadie asked hesitantly.

Arthur shrugged.  They were only on a one story apartment and it was a short fall.  “Brace your legs. We’ll jump at the same time.”

“I’d be more worried about you, Morgan,” Sadie huffed.  She readied herself, giving her hands a shake. “Let’s do this.”

“Let’s go.”  Arthur lightly jumped, aiming for the back of Roy.  He landed with ease, having had time to practice jumping onto a saddle from afar.  Sadie, however, landed with a thud onto the horse.

She straightened herself and flicked her hair back.  “I’m going to have to practice that.”

“Naw, you landed on your horse.  You’re a master already,” Arthur praised.  He clicked his tongue for his horse to get running, and soon enough, Sadie and Arthur were riding out of St. Denis on the path headed for Annesburg.

They slowed their horses once St. Denis was far behind them.  Sadie dug into her pack and grabbed her waterskin. “What was up with her?”

“That’s Mrs. Downes.  You know how Strauss is a loan shark?” Arthur asked, rubbing the back of his neck.  He wasn’t proud of what he had done, but he had been following rules. Dutch had allowed Strauss to be a loan shark, so Arthur had never protested against Strauss.  At least, not until recently. Strauss had needed Arthur’s help, and he had kept refusing.

“I heard.  Sounds like a nasty business.”

“It is.  He targets those who are poor and desperate - people who can’t pay it back right away.  Anyways, I did a job for Strauss. This family outside Valentine. Small farm, obviously poor.  Mr. Downes owed Strauss money, so I scruffed him up a bit. Was already sick, the Mr. Downes.” Arthur looked down at his hands.  “I’m not proud of this, exactly. They didn’t have the money. I returned a bit later, found the husband had died. They was movin’. Got the money.  That was that.”

“It was all their money,” Sadie muttered, eyebrows scrunching up.  “She’s a street walker, Arthur.”

Arthur kept silent.  He hadn’t felt this guilty in a long, long time.  He pulled his hat down and steeled himself. “I can’t change what I did.”

“No.  You can’t,” Sadie pointed out, her voice harsh.  “Look. I’m not angry at you. Maybe a little. But Dutch always preaches that his gang is different from regular criminals.  How you all was about honor and loyalty. I ain’t sorry for sayin’ this, but Dutch is nothin’ more than a sugar-coated petty criminal.  And he’s draggin’ everybody down with him. You, mostly.”

“We didn’t used to be like this,” Arthur said quietly.  

“Time changes.  And I know you are seein’ it change.  Hence why we’re going to some strangers house to make a social call.  That ain’t normal for you, I suppose.”

“Naw.  It ain’t.  It really was an excuse to leave… but.... They makin’ it on their own.   Legally. They don’t have to run from the law. They have a house, a future.”

Sadie pulled out a cigarette box from her shirt pocket and opened it.  “I had a house. A future. A simple farm. We didn’t have much out there.  It can be done, Arthur. If that’s what you want.”

Arthur had been afraid to ask.  “Is… that what you want? Again?” He leaned over and grabbed a cigarette from Sadie.  He lit it and waited for her response.

“Maybe,” she said in a light voice.  

“I know you don’t approve of Dutch… but are you okay stayin’ with us?”

“I’m stayin’ with you lot until I get the O’Driscolls.  That’s final. But after that…” Sadie shook her head. “I hadn’t imagined a future.  I wanted nothin’ more but to die, Arthur.”

Arthur stopped his horse then to look at her fully.  “You ain’t gonna die, Sadie.”

“I think I know that, now.”  Sadie closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  When she opened her eyes, they were soft. “You gotta get out of your gang, Arthur.  I got O’Driscolls. I think after that, we’ll both be free.”

* * *

A sudden thunderstorm halted their journey for the night, forcing them to take cover in a rocky outlook.  Roy handled the booming thunder well, though Bob was dancing around nervously. They made sure to tie the horses extra tight in fear of losing them during the night.

Arthur struggled to light the fire.  They had found some dry wood, even an old campfire, but the wood was soaked cleanly.  Sadie left and came back in a couple minutes, her hands full of kindling. Together they worked on starting the fire, which caught flame ten minutes in.

After gathering enough wood and kindling to last most of the night and preparing their bed rolls, they sat by the warm fire.  Sadie put a blanket around her shoulders while Arthur prepared a small meal of rabbits. The rain pounded around them in an unstoppable downpour.  

Arthur inspected one of the rabbits he was cooking.  “You know, the couple I was talkin’ about? They knew how to catch rabbits and only rabbits.  I had to teach them how to track and shoot a deer.”

“Shit, that’s a must when you live outside civilization,” Sadie reasoned.  “We had it worse with the snow. We had to get buy without stealin’ everything in sight.”

“I resent that,” Arthur chuckled.  He handed her a stick with rabbit, then settled down with his.  “I’m sorry this ain’t the most… romantic of dinner places.”

“Were you expecting fluffy beds made of clouds?  A mansion built for two?” Sadie smiled at him. “This is just fine, Mr. Morgan.”

Nevertheless, Arthur wished he could provide for her better.  He finished off his meal with a few big bites, then added the stick to the fire.  He had a few apples in his pack, which he dug out and tossed one to Sadie. It wasn’t the most appetizing of meals - it was rare he actually ate well on the road.

Sadie chewed her apple, staring into the fire with a blank stare.  Arthur couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking. Her shoulders were relaxed, hair let down so it could dry.  The scar on her brow was outlined in the firelight. He followed down to look at her freckles, the curve of her neck, to the undone top button of her shirt, to the smooth skin hidden behind the cloth.

“I can feel you starin’,” Sadie said, flicking her eyes up to meet him.  Her eyes challenged him. “What’re you thinkin’, cowboy?”

“I’m thinkin’...” Arthur leaned over and brushed a hand over her shoulder.  “It’s gettin’ mighty cold, over here, by myself.”

“Oh, is it?” Sadie tossed the apple core into the fire and regarded Arthur with a teasing stare.  She got to her feet, pulling Arthur up with her. “Feeling risque, are you?”

“Nobody around for miles,” Arthur rumbled and embraced her.  He nuzzled the side of her face with his beard. He reached down and undid the button of her pants, then frowned.  “Only protest against pants… it takes longer to get you undressed. I could grab you, hike your skirts up, and take you as fast as that.”

“I guess I’ll only wear skirts for those… special occasions,” Sadie whispered in his ear.  “For now…” she let her pants drop to her heels. “Show me the rest of your idea.”

Arthur was happy to oblige.  He backed her up until her back hit the rocky wall, undressing her as he did so.  She kissed him while she undid the suspenders and opening the flap of his pants. Once she stood naked before him, at her confirmation, he hoisted her against the wall and pinned her, having one of her legs wrapped around his hip.  He covered her in kisses, sucking hard at her neck. Her hands ran up and down his back, scratching harshly at her need.

Arthur’s body had been quick to respond.  He pressed his length against her, teasing her.  He let his fingers play with her between her legs, waiting for her breath to hasten, her need to build.  He adjusted himself and entered her with a sigh. He grabbed her other leg, pinning her completely against the wall.  She wrapped her arms around him as he thrusted, letting him take her.

Sweat built on his back as he tried to control his thrusting - she was a tall woman and it was a difficult position to hold for long.  He hastened his thrusts, lost in the warm folds of her body. Christ, he just wanted her so badly.

His healing leg began to protest.  He ignored it.

“Arthur,” she whispered in his ear, rather frantically.

He slowed down.  “What’s wrong?”

“Do you hear that?”

He had been so distracted by the pleasure, he hadn’t.  He paused and listened then. Sure enough, a howl very close by.  He kissed her forehead and set her down, breaking the connection.

Sure enough, a white form caught the corner of his eye.  Arthur dashed for his pistols he had tossed by the fire, Sadie dashing for her own.  The wolves were upon them in an instant and as one jumped over the fire to Arthur, he lifted the pistol and unloaded it once, keeping the pistol low at his hip.  He aimed between the eyes. The bullet went cleanly through, sending the wolf flying to the side, landing next to the fire.

The other wolf fell in front of Sadie, who sat against the wall, a shotgun in hand.  The wolf twitched on the ground, then fell still. Sadie was breathing hard, her naked form shivering.  

Arthur set aside his pistol and grabbed a blanket, handing it to her.  She accepted it with a nod of thanks and set the shotgun aside. “I think we got ourselves a nice set of pelts,” Arthur chimed, kneeling beside her.  “You did well.”

“Didn’t wanna be dinner,” she said. “Guess we better get on with skinnin’ them.”

“Now, Sadie.  They ain’t bleedin’ over anythin’ important.”  Arthur leaned down and picked her up with ease.  She was light in his arms. “I say we finished what we started.”

Sadie looked up at him sheepishly.  “After all that? We almost just died and got eaten by a pair of hungry wolves.”

Arthur kissed her long and hard.  “After all that.” He walked her over to the bedrolls and finished making love to her, wolves be damned.

* * *

As they were packing up the next morning, Arthur had to take a second glance at the rock formation they had stayed under.  Not a cloud was to be seen in the blue sky, making it easier for him to admire the landscape around them. There, carved into the wall, high up on the rocky hillside - a carving of Francis Sinclair’s.  “Well, I’ll be,” Arthur muttered, grabbing his journal from his satchel. He hiked his way up the carving, making his way as slow as possible. It would be ill luck to take a tumble and break his other leg.  

He was finished sketching the carving when Sadie returned from freshening up.  Arthur waved at her from where he was, then started to make his way down.

“What you doin’ up there?” She asked once he was on solid ground again.  She had changed into a light blue shirt tucked into black pants.

“Because of this,” Arthur said and showed her his drawings.  “A carving. I met a curious man months ago who was keen on findin’ all these carvings.  I think that actually does it. When I’m near Valentine, I’ll have to give ‘em to him. I’m sure he’ll have a reward of some kind.”

“Harmless way to make money,” Sadie remarked.  She took his journal and flicked through the pages.  “I seen you drawin’ in this, but you write, too?” She closed it before she could read anymore and handed it to him.  “I won’t peek. I can tell it’s private.”

“Appreciate it.  I always kept a journal,” Arthur said.  He put it away in his satchel. “Lost my old one back in Blackwater.  This is all that’s happened since then.”

“I’ll be honest, at first, I didn’t think you outlaws could read.  But then I realized how… educated, I guess, Dutch seemed to be. Always readin’ or quotin’ out of his books.”

“He taught me and John.  He was a good man.”

“I believe it.”  Sadie walked to her horse and peered back at Arthur over her shoulder.  “You look good in those leather chaps, you know.”

Arthur was taken aback.  He had changed into black chaps only just that morning.  “Thank you, I guess.”

“It frames your behind,” Sadie grinned, batting her eyelashes at him.

Arthur flushed beet red and tried to look at his back.  “I never thought of that.”

“It’d look better if it was only the chaps.”

“Why, Sadie… you- do you-”

Sadie laughed at his stuttering.  “Let’s get a move on, cowboy.”

It was a couple more days until they neared their destination.  They had taken their time getting the pelts from the wolves; Arthur planned to stop at a trapper he knew along the way.  The trapper would be able to fix the pelts into a cloak of some kind. Arthur would pay him handsomely for it; he and Sadie would have a matching wolf cloak by the next morning.  It would be good for hunting, especially in the snow where it would protect them from the elements.

The trapper was an aloof man who sold wares deep in the forest.  Arthur had always stopped by now and then, selling the excess pelts he hadn’t needed.  It was his last stop, then he and Sadie would continue onto the Balfours.

“They live near this waterfall?” Sadie asked as they passed the horses through the river.  Her new cloak was rolled up and tied to the back of the saddle. “This area is beautiful.”

“It is,” Arthur agreed.  He scratched at his beard.  He kept forgetting to shave it and it was getting unpleasant.  “They’re just up this hill here.”

Sadie pointed.  “Is that her? She’s…”

Arthur looked to wear she pointed and his heart fell.  He could see her through the trees, a dark haired woman on the ground, a shovel next to her.  “She’s burying someone. Shit. Giddy-up, boah.” Roy sped up, Sadie close behind.

Charlotte looked up, red-faced and tear streaked, and proceeded to sob once she saw Arthur.  “Mr. Morgan,” she choked.

“Mrs. Balfour, what happened?” Arthur jumped off his horse and dropped beside the distraught woman.  “Is Cal….?”

“He’s dead.  A gang got him,” Charlotte sobbed.  “I only just buried him. He wasn’t meant to die - and he was tryin’ to defend me.”  She collapsed on Arthur, crying into his shoulder. “What am I supposed to do without him?”  
Arthur patted her on the shoulder, not quite knowing what to say.  He looked up to Sadie and saw she looked white as snow.

“What gang was it?” Sadie asked.

Charlotte pulled back from Arthur and rubbed her eyes.  “I don’t know, it all happened so fast… Cal shot one of them.  But they’d said they would be back.” She turned to look at the grave.  “He was shot in the stomach, punctured a lung, or something along those lines.  He only lived for a few minutes before…”

“Shh, Mrs. Balfour,” Arthur soothed.  He stood and lifted Charlotte up. “Let’s get you inside where it’s safe.”  He put an arm around her and started walking with her to the house, the rocky ground crunching softly under their feet.  Sadie followed behind, pulling the two horse’s along.

Once the house came into view, Arthur only felt defeat.  Another friend lost, only this had been out of Arthur’s control.  If he had stayed longer… no, Arthur could have died too. It was bad luck.  These two people only deserved the world, and look where it got them. A peaceful living no more.

What if what Arthur was after didn’t exist?  A peaceful life, only to be taken from him? A repeat of what happened to Eliza and Isaac?  Arthur wasn’t sure if he could handle losing another woman like her. It’d be losing even more of himself, and he’d lost plenty already.

Sadie was strong enough on her own, yet she mattered to Arthur more than anyone at the moment.  He didn’t understand it. He’d have to keep working hard for something, if only for her.

Once in the house, Arthur set Charlotte down at her rocking chair.  “I’ll make you some tea,” he said, then dug around for it. While he prepared it, Sadie stared out a window, her arms crossed.  He could tell she was upset. An exact repeat of what had happened to her. He couldn’t imagine what she was thinking.

While the tea brewed, Arthur sat down next to Charlotte.  He took off his hat and set it aside. “I’m sorry you lost Cal.  He was a good man. A brilliant man. I was looking for ways to pay him back for saving my life.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do without him,” Charlotte sniffed.  She grabbed a handkerchief off the table and blew into it. “We moved out here for each other.  And now…”

“It’ll be hard, I admit.  But you know how to trap, to hunt, skin - you’ll be able to survive.  And that’s what you need.”

“What she needs,” Sadie cut in, “Is revenge for her husband.”  She hadn’t moved from her spot by the window.

“I don’t know if that’s needed right now,” Arthur replied.

Sadie looked back at him.  “What if they come back?”

“Then we stay and protect until that happens.”  Arthur stood up and grabbed a cup for the tea.

“No.  No,” Sadie shook her head.  “They need to be taken care of.  Which direction did they go?”

“West, I believe,” Charlotte choked out.  “There was five of them. Four now, most likely.”

“Then west I’m going.”  Sadie headed for the door and yanked it open.

“Sadie!  Wait! I don’t think we should leave Mrs. Balfour by herself,” Arthur pleaded.  “What if they doubled back and went another direction?”

“Good thing I know how to track.”  Sadie dashed out of the house and hopped onto Bob.  She didn’t bother to look back at Arthur. Her face was still deathly white, set on taking revenge on the men.  She kicked her horse and they headed down the path, blond hair blazing behind her. She was quickly hidden by the trees.

“Dammit,” Arthur muttered.  He went to his horse and pulled off one of his rifles.  Once he made sure it was prepped with bullets, he wandered back into the house and set it on the table with a soft clink.  He set a few spare bullets aside.  “If any men come near here, shoot. Do not hesitate. I’ll be back.”

Charlotte gave a small nod.  “Is that your Sadie?”

“Yes,” Arthur grumbled and put on his hat. He walked out of the house and shut the door behind him, upset at letting Sadie leave by herself.  “That’s my Sadie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not used to writing smut and I usually avoid. Trying my hardest to make it work for this fanfic. :'D  
> Also -  
> I'm going on a small weekend vacation, so hopefully I'll get a chapter out next week!


	11. Chapter 11

Arthur caught up to Sadie easily.  The trail stayed true to the west, heading deep into the Roanoke Ridge area where it was mountainous and treacherous.  The footprints were a mix of shoes and bare feet, with an occasional batch of dried blood. Someone of the gang was very wounded and most likely dead by now.  Arthur figured they’d be slowing down soon.

Sadie only regarded him coldly once he found her and refused to make eye contact.  It reminded her of when he first found her: bitter, angry, hurt. She had refused to be friendly with anyone except the women, only opening up here and there.  Arthur had accidentally caught her crying once while she was talking to Mary-Beth. After that, Arthur had made sure to stop by and ask how she was every now and then and make sure she was okay.     

He had been able to break down that coldness.  It had returned at full force now and he didn’t know how to go about it.  So he followed her silently, keeping his horse close behind hers. He let her do the tracking.  

The path led off into a thick patch of trees after many hours of hard riding.  Sadie hopped off her horse and grabbed a rifle. Arthur followed suit, and together they crept silently through the bushes. 

“You didn’t have to come,” Sadie whispered as she paused by a tree.  She peered around it. “I got this.” 

“I ain’t gonna let you fight on your own,” Arthur reassured her.  “Just tell me what to do, Sadie. I’m here for ya.”

Sadie blinked, faintly surprised.  “Thank you,” she said. “I think they’re behind those rocks there, down the hill.  We got this?”

“Who are they?”

“They ain’t O’Driscolls, that for sure.  I caught sight of one of them - dirty son of a bitch.  Didn’t have no shirt, looked a bit odd.” Sadie looked uncertain.  “We gotta take ‘em out. Cover me, alright?”

“Let’s go, then.” Arthur followed Sadie around the tree, his scoped rifle prepped and ready to use.   

They started down the hill, the rocks below providing sufficient cover for the gang.  They were close enough to hear the men now. The voices had a thick southern accent and one of them howled in pain and curses.

While Arthur hovered behind, Sadie moved forward and held the rifle pointed at the rocks.  “You come out now!” she yelled.

The voices stopped at once. “Who’re you?” one shouted.  “This is Murfree land! You best be watchin’ where ya goin’ you hear?”

“I think you boys better explain what you done,” Sadie challenged.  She moved to stand by a thick tree, hiding behind it for cover.  

A bald, heavyset man peeked his head out.  “It’s only a woman,” he said, moving towards her with a pistol in hand.  His words were slurred as most of his teeth were missing. “You lost, little lady?  We can show you the way home.”

“Why’d you kill him?” Sadie demanded. 

The toothless man grinned.  “Killed who? Why we ain’t done nothin’.  But you on Murfree land, you know. This is our territory.  I’m afraid you gotta do what we say.”

Sadie pulled the trigger, the bullet hitting the man’s forehead.  He fell back, limbs flailing and blood spurting. “I ain’t heard of ya.”

Somehow Arthur knew she wouldn’t hold back.  He aimed his rifle at the next man who appeared from behind the large rock and pulled the trigger, hitting the man clear through an eye. He fell with a gurgle.  Sadie took down the next man, shooting him twice in the stomach. 

Arthur made his way down now, knowing there was still one man running about.  He listened for anything that moved in the bushes.

“He ran for it!” Sadie yelled and took off into the foliage.  Arthur ran after her, only to hear a gunshot and a thud. He came upon Sadie stood over a body, blood soaking the leaves under it.  She held her gun at her side, her shoulders shaking. “There’s a man behind that rock back there - he’s alive, but barely. We can get some answers out of him,” she said.  “I’ll leave the looting to you.”

Arthur noticed her eyes were dark and he reached out to squeeze her shoulder as she passed.  “It’s okay, Sadie. We avenged Cal. This is enough.”

“When will it ever be enough?” She leveled a glare at him.  Her eyes softened after a second and she walked away, her shoulders set.  “Let me do this, Arthur.”

He let her go.  This wasn’t only for Cal.  This was for Jake and Charlotte, too.  Arthur continued to loot the fallen men, finding little to nothing.  He supposed the Murfree men had dropped off the loot somewhere. He hadn’t even asked Charlotte what they stole, which he should have done.  

The surviving Murfree was barely breathing with the wound Cal had given him, now several days into infection.  The man’s torso was wrapped in bloody rags soaked clean through. Sadie knelt by the man, a dagger in her hand. Arthur stood by and watched her silently.  He could see the fury in her. It reminded him of himself in his early years, where he had been angry and bitter.  

Sadie was frightening, to say the least. But yet she was in control.

“Why’d you kill him?” Sadie asked in a small voice.  

The Murfree man was wheezing, clearly on the brink of death.  A waft of body odor and disease was prevalent in the air. “Because… it’s what he gets,” the man coughed out.  It wasn’t much of an answer. Sadie lifted the dagger and held the dagger above the man’s heart, hesitating.

Arthur kneeled behind her and set his hand over hers.  “You don’t have to,” he murmured into Sadie’s ear. “This ain’t gonna prove anything.”

“They killed your friend, Arthur.  You should be angry,” Sadie bit back.  “Why aren’t you?”

“I ain’t got a fight left in me much anymore.  I am angry. I am upset. I lost a good friend.  But we done what we could. This man ain’t gonna live much longer.  I just…” Arthur trailed off.  

Sadie belted her dagger.  “The man’s dead, anyways.”

The man stared lifelessly at them, his mouth slack.  “It sounds like there may be more Murfrees. We should leave.”  Arthur reached over and patted the dead man’s pockets. His fingers brushed a chain, which he pulled out.  It was a heart shaped locket. Arthur had seen Charlotte wearing it before. He pocketed it, knowing she would be missing it.

His eyes caught a small locked chest just peeking out from a pile of leaves.  He quickly got it open and found a few small trinkets, plus at least six hundred dollars.  No doubt it was from the Balfour’s. He made sure to tuck it in his satchel and moved to help Sadie stand.  He led her away from the dead men, arm wrapped around her shoulders.

“I wanted them dead,” she breathed when the reached their horses.  He could feel her begin to shake. “I want them dead.”

He knew she wasn’t talking about the Murfree then.  Her eyes seemed far away, seeing something unknown to him.  The men who had done whatever they had to Sadie were still alive, most likely disrupting plenty of other people’s lives.  

“Let’s get you home,” he suggested.  He held the horse steady as Sadie stepped on.  It was going to be a late night for the both of them.  They traveled at a slower pace, no longer having a need to rush things.  The moon would be high in the sky by the time they would reach the Balfour’s.  

The two didn’t speak until they were within eyesight of the cabin.  

“I better tell Charlotte we’re back before she shoots us,” Arthur said and hopped off his horse.  “Charlotte! It’s Arthur and Sadie! Don’t shoot, ” he shouted before he reached the doorway. He gave a light knock.

There were a few clicks and the door shot open, the hinges screeching.  Charlotte nearly crumbled at the sight of him, her dark hair in tangles around her head.  She still wore her dirt covered dress. The rifle sat on the kitchen table, unused. “Mr. Morgan, thank god,” she cried.  “You’re alive.”

“It’s done, Mrs. Balfour,” he said, digging into his pocket for the locket.  He grabbed her hand and tenderly set the necklace in it. “I think this belongs to you.”

Tears welled in her eyes and she nodded her head fiercely, holding the necklace to her chest.  “Cal gave it to me as a wedding gift. I’m going to miss him so much.”

“Let’s get you in bed,” Arthur said, moving the woman along.  “I’ll stand guard for the night, but I think we’re safe. Have you ever heard of the Murfree gang?  Are they known for these parts?”

Charlotte visibly shuddered.  “No. I’ve heard of them, but they typically don’t travel this far.  Thank you, Mr. Morgan. I think you saved my life. Those men said they’d be back.  I hope that’s the last of them.” She gave a shaky smile to Arthur. “Good night, Mr. Morgan.  There’s a cot and my couch you can sleep on.” She shut her bedroom door behind her softly.

Arthur went out to help Sadie unload the horses.  Sadie moved silently while she unsaddled her horse, setting the saddle in the small shed nearby.  She caught Arthur by the arm as he set down his own saddle. “Thank you, Arthur. I didn’t ask for you to do anythin’ for me.  I just… I just need to sort myself out. I still do.”

“I got time for you, Sadie.”  Arthur wrapped her in an embrace and kissed the side of her head.  “You do what you gotta do. Just don’t lose yourself.”

“I don’t think I will.  Not with you around.”

They headed inside the cabin then, carrying their packs.  Sadie grabbed her blanket and sat on the couch, her face still pale.  Arthur started heating up a kettle of coffee, knowing he’d need it if he was going to stay up for the night.

He also found a slab of pork and canned beans which he began preparing into a small meal.  He would make sure to hunt some fresh meat for Charlotte so he didn’t leave her completely sparse of food.  While he cooked, he smoked a cigarette. He zoned out and let his mind wander, grabbing spices and sprinkling them on the meat without much thought.  

At that moment he felt ten times older.  So many tragedies kept having that were out of his control, out of his reasoning.  He thought Cal would be able to point him in the right direction, and now, he was at a loss of what to do about Charlotte.  Sure, she could hunt. She could take care of herself now. What did Charlotte want to do about this? Continue to live here?

He finished fixing two plates of food and passed one to Sadie, who accepted it with a small thank you.  

“I’ll be stayin’ up, just in case,” Arthur said, sitting down next to her on the couch.  He dug his cigarette into a dish and snuffed it out. “You get some sleep, Sadie. It been a long day.”

“Sure.” 

Within the hour, Arthur sat on a chair by the door, keeping his ears open and rifle in hand.  It had been awhile since he’d taken watch during the night. It was usually left to the other men and women of the gang.  He doubted anything would happen - the Murfree’s attack on the Balfours had most likely been an unusual move for the gang.  The Murfrees didn’t seem smart enough to connect the two - Charlotte would be safe. For now.  

He sipped his lukewarm coffee throughout the night and made sure to do a few stretches to keep himself awake.  Sadie had long fallen asleep on the couch, buried under her blanket. Arthur was tempted to go over and brush her hair back, tuck the blanket in… but he held back.  He wanted Sadie to come to him. He didn’t want to intrude where he wasn’t wanted.

He lit another cigarette, his third one of the night, and inhaled deeply.  He watched the smoke as he blew it out and felt his chest tighten. He coughed lightly into his shoulder.  His chest ached. _Christ_.  He was so tired of coughing.  It was time to stop smoking for the night.  

Once the birds started chirping and light seeped through the blinds, he heard Charlotte move about in her room.  She opened the bedroom door, dressed in fresh new clothing with her hair pulled back. While her eyes were red and her face was pale, she looked ten times better than she had.  

“Mr. Morgan.  Would you like to go on a walk?” she asked him.  She walked over to the door and pulled down one of the jackets hanging on the wall.  

“Sure,” Arthur said, slinging the gun over his shoulder.  He followed the woman out of the house and closed the door quietly behind him.  Sadie was still asleep on the couch, having barely moved at all.

Birds serenaded them as they walked, chirping their morning ritual songs.  “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner,” Arthur said in a low voice. “I could have protected him.”

“Cal saved me.  That’s what matters.  He’s… was not a killer.  Was the kindest man you’d ever met.  He wouldn’t have been able to shoot him if you hadn’t taught him how to steady his aim.  The man he shot… this Murfree man? Had come upon me when I was unawares. Had tied me up, ready to take me away.  Cal saved the day. And you know why? Because of you.” Charlotte shivered and pulled her jacket around her.  

She led him up north past the cabin, away from her husband’s grave.  “But Cal was overwhelmed and injured. He managed to spook the Murfree men away, despite everything.  I did all I could to save him… but... Last night, I had all night to think. I admit, I been lost since having to bury my husband only yesterday.  He was my whole reason for living here. My folks didn’t like it much, and they’d love for nothing more than me to return to them.”

“If you got folks to go to, ain’t that the best choice?  How are you gonna survive out here?” Arthur inquired, still feeling guilty about not protecting them.

“Is it?” Charlotte shook her head.  “It isn’t. Cal and I were tired of the city living.  There was too much. I’d only be drowning if I was forced to go back.  No. Cal would want me to keep living here. And I will.” She stopped in her tracks.  “I’ll survive for Cal, for myself. I just have to. But here is what I want to offer you: Cal was a banker, as you may remember. He has connections and I know how to contact them.  There’s land available for purchase all around here, Mr. Morgan. You told me you don’t have land or a house - but you could, up here. I wouldn’t mind having a friend nearby.”

Arthur nearly chuckled.  “I can’t afford land, Mrs. Balfour-”

“That’s why you take out a loan.  It can be done. You’re an expert hunter - you can find ways to pay it off.”

“I just…”  Arthur looked to the ground.  “I ain’t ever sold my soul to a bank before.”

Charlotte reached over and squeezed his arm.  “You don’t have to decide now. You don’t even have to live here.  Anywhere you want. It’s what you deserve. I’ll make sure it happens.”

“That’s awfully kind of you.  I’ll... think on it.”

Charlotte smiled, a light appearing once again in her eyes.  “Very good. Let us return - you look ready to collapse.”

“Before we do… here.  This must be yours.” Arthur grabbed the money he had retrieved from the Murfrees.  He handed it to Charlotte, who took it from him slowly.

She counted through the money and shook her head.  “This is too much. The Murfree’s only took a couple hundred.  This is close to six hundred.”

Arthur shrugged.  “Keep it.”

“It’s yours, Mr. Morgan.”  She handed back a wad of money.  “I insist. Actually…” she folded the money and put it in her pocket.  “I’ll set this money aside for you. Consider it towards your loan. This is more than enough to buy land out here.  It’s up to you.”

* * *

Arthur woke up late that afternoon, having fallen asleep on the small cot in the living room.  Sadie sat in a rocking chair, a book in her lap. She stopped rocking once she saw he was awake and shut her book.  “Good afternoon, sleepin’ beauty,” she grinned. “You slept like the dead.”

“I feel dead,” Arthur groaned, sitting up and setting his bare feet on the floor.  He could see Sadie was back to normal. A wind blew through the open windows, cooling his heated body.  Despite it being so cold in the morning, the sun had warmed the cabin up immensely.

Sadie pointed to a bowl of water and an upright mirror on the table next to him.  “Charlotte brought that out for you, said you might want to shave. Your beard is so long now.”

“Maybe I like it this way.  Ever thought of that?” Arthur smirked at her. Nevertheless he dug his razor out from his satchel and sat on the edge of the cot to stare into the mirror.  He was the very definition of a mountain man at that moment. “You came back to me even after I had this beard, remember?”

“It sure ain’t the beard I fell for,” Sadie said, raising her eyebrows.  “Go on, now.” She eyed him as he begrudgingly started shaving his beard. “Charlotte took off.  Nice lady, her. She has letters to send out, so she’ll be stayin’ the night in Annesburg. She said we’re welcome to stay until she returns and make ourselves at home.”

“Oh?” Arthur shook off the razor in the water dish.  “I imagine we best get back to the gang. We can set off after I get a bite to eat and I hunt some game to replace the meat I cooked.”

Sadie leaned back in the chair and sank into it.  “Still, this was nice. Not the current situation.  Just bein’ us.” 

Arthur agreed.  “You doin’ okay, Sadie?”

“Yeah.  Yeah… I’m okay.  Better than yesterday, at least.  Thank you for following me, Arthur.”

“Anytime.”  He was silent as he completed half of the shave, then shook off the excess hair.  “You know, she offered to get me approved for a bank loan. For property. Here. Or anywhere.”

“You’d rather rob the bank,” Sadie joked. 

Arthur couldn’t deny that. 

“But…” Sadie set the book aside on the table.  “I can tell you’re serious. I don’t know, Arthur.  I’d say go for it, but I’m also starting to know you.  You got your gang. You won’t leave them. You’re too loyal.”

Again, Arthur couldn’t deny that.  “It’s something to think about, at least.”

“Sure.”

Arthur quickly finished his shave and dashed on a few drops from the bottle Charlotte must have put out.  It was a fresh scent of lavender, though he was sure it only half masked his smell. Sadie wandered over and sat beside him, leaning her face against his. 

“So smooth,” she cooed.  “I near forgot what you looked like under all that.”

“I think I forgot what _you_ look like under all this,” Arthur said, motioning to her clothing.  “You’ll have to remind me sometime, down the road.”  

Sadie snorted and pushed his shoulder lightly.  “You are awful, Arthur. Plain awful.”

* * *

 

The gang was more than happy to see the two of them when they arrived at Shady Belle a few days later.  Kieran once again volunteered to take care of the horses. Mrs. Grimshaw wandered up to them, her face wide with a smile.  “Mr. Morgan, Mrs. Adler. So nice of you to finally join up with us again.”

“Mrs. Grimshaw.  How goes it?” Arthur asked. 

“Since Micah so greedily fought to keep your cot and tent, I fixed up one of the upper rooms for you and Mrs. Adler,” Mrs. Grimshaw said.  She glared in the direction of Micah, who sat on Arthur’s cot, drinking a beer. “You watch out for that man,” she warned Arthur. She wandered off over to Tilly and Karen, berating them on something small.

“Everything’s back to normal,” Arthur sighed as he and Sadie walked into the old mansion.  

John met them on the staircase as he was headed down.  “Arthur. Welcome back. Jack’s been wonderin’ where you been.”

“Oh, here and there.  How’s Abigail?” 

“She’s fine.  Our room is right across from yours.  Make sure to say hi,” John clapped Arthur on the back and tipped his hat to Sadie, then left them.  

Arthur continued up the stairs, the floorboards creaking under every footstep.  The building was ready to collapse at any moment, it felt like. There was a smell of musty grime and mold seeping in the air.  It wasn’t pleasant.  

The room John had mentioned was missing half the wall; he could see Jack drawing on the ground inside.  He waved, catching the boys attention. Jack ran out with a delighted yell, followed by Abigail who was a bit more nonchalant then her son.  She and Sadie shared a quick hug. Even though Sadie had never mentioned it, Arthur could tell she had missed Abigail. Those two had bonded over the few months they had known each other.

After all was said and done, Arthur sat down on the bed in his shared room with Sadie, surprised at how pleasant it smelled.  Mrs. Grimshaw must’ve done her best to clean up his room. Sadie stood in front of the broken mirror in the corner, braiding her hair.  The weather was once again sweltering and flies were everywhere. Arthur was missing the mountain weather at that moment.

He got up and walked behind Sadie.  He wrapped his hands around her and kissed her cheek.  “You’re mighty pretty, Sadie.”

Sadie stared at his reflection and smiled.  “You ain’t too bad yourself, Mr. Morgan.”  

Somebody knocked on the door then.  “Mr. Morgan?” Kieran said, his voice muffled behind the door.  “Can I talk?”

“Sure,” Arthur said, stepping away from Sadie. She wandered over to the bed and sat down, fanning herself with a piece of paper.   “What do you want, O’Driscoll?” He opened the door and waved the younger man in. Kieran had let his hair grow out, as it now trailed over his shoulders.  

Kieran’s ears reddened. “I ain’t even gonna argue you anymore, Mr. Morgan.  I have a request.”

Arthur waited for him to speak, though he could tell the boy was mustering up the courage to say whatever it was.  “Well, what is it?”

“I want…” Kieran gulped.  “I-wannaaskMary-Bethout.”

Arthur had understood the garble, but he still asked, “Say what now?  Speak english.”

“You didn’t-? Ah.”  Kieran cleared his throat.  “I wanna… I wanna ask Mary-Beth out.”

“Ah.”  Arthur put an arm around Kieran and led him to the window.  The glass had been long since broken, leaving it wide open for bugs and creatures to climb through.  “So you want to woo Mary-Beth. Since when has this been happenin’?”

“Well, she been teachin’ me my letters and we been talkin’ ever since-”

“And where do I come in?”

“I thinkin’ St. Denis. She been talkin’ how she wants to go there, but I, I keep hearin’ the others say O’Driscolls are about.  I’m afraid, Mr. Morgan. I don’t wanna go out there by myself with her. What if they jump us? I ain’t much in a fight.”

Arthur looked to Sadie.  “So you want me and Sadie to tag along.”

“If-if you want.”

“Sure, why not?  I don’t see the harm in it.  How about we leave tomorrow bright and early?”

“I gotta ask Mary-Beth… first.”

Arthur waved a hand to the dock down below where Mary-Beth sat reading a book.  “There’s your chance. No Mrs. Grimshaw in sight.” He turned Kieran around and lightly pushed him towards the door.  “Off you go now.” Kieran walked away, fists clenched tightly.  

Sadie went to stand by Arthur at the window and leaned against him.  “Poor boy was shakin’.”

They watched as Kieran wandered up to Mary-Beth, clearly gaining nervousness with each step. He lifted a hand as if to call out to her, then turned on his heel and began to walk away.  Mary-Beth caught sight of him and called him over. Kieran looked defeated and pale as he went to her.

“He ain’t gonna do it,” Arthur guessed.  

“He is,” Sadie insisted.  “Just watch.”

Sure enough, Kieran reached out and grabbed Mary-Beth’s hand suddenly.  While they couldn’t hear what Kieran was saying, they could see a smile light up on Mary-Beth’s face.  The young woman nodded fiercely and jumped up to give the man a kiss on the cheek. She ran away then towards her tent.

Kieran looked up to Arthur and gave a weak thumbs up.  

“Well, he done it.”  Arthur said. “Guess I’m takin’ you out about town tomorrow.”

Sadie kissed him.  “Sure seems like it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was difficult to write. It's probably because I keep redoing my outline. I can't decide which direction to go to first. I got this, though! :) Thank you for the reviews, I appreciate every single one of them.


	12. Chapter 12

Arthur woke to persistent pounding against his door.  He shot up in bed and his hand went to the pistol stowed on the bedside table.  Sadie did the same, though they relaxed when they realized it was only Dutch.  

“Just a second, Dutch,” Arthur groaned and grabbed his long johns.  He stepped into them and only half buttoned them up while Sadie hid herself under the covers.  Arthur cracked the door open.  “What can I do for you?”

“Get dressed, for one,” Dutch glowered at him.  Despite it being early in the morning, Dutch was dressed in his red and black vest, his black hair freshly washed back.  “We need to talk.”

Arthur shut the door and went over to his chest, digging out a fresh white shirt and dark jeans.  

“What he want?” Sadie mumbled from under the covers.  

“Not too sure.  Sounds like I’m in trouble, though.”  Arthur pulled on his pants and buttoned his shirt.  He grabbed a newer pair of boots and put them on. “I’ll be back,” he said to Sadie, kissing her on the forehead.  She smiled groggily up at him, then rolled back to face the wall to sleep a bit more.

Arthur was still fastening his suspenders when he went out to meet Dutch, who was pacing by the top of the staircase. 

“Walk with me.”  Dutch walked down and out the back of the house, which led into a forgotten, fly-ridden marsh.  

Arthur followed him, feeling much like a kid being chastised by his parent.  Dutch’s shoulders were set and his movements determined. Something was on his mind and Arthur’s absence hadn’t been helping things.

They stopped by the back shed at the water.  An alligator hissed in the distance, reminding the two of them they were trespassing.  “Something’s changed about you, Arthur,” Dutch said, cutting straight to the chase. He crossed his arms.  “And it ain’t just the Mrs. Adler.”

“No, but she’s a huge part of it.”

“We’re glad you’re back, son.  We are. But we can’t help but notice you left for a week, only after just returning.  We could have used your help.”

Arthur leaned against the fence and stared out into the water.  A bullfrog sat on a leaf, letting out several croaks. “Had to clear my head.  You brought us up believin’ that the gang was more important than anythin’ else.  Even money. And yet…” 

The older man came to stand by him.  “We were going to rescue you. You were dead, son, and so we had to move on.  To keep the gang safe.”

“There was no evidence,” Arthur hissed.

“Micah came back with your clothing, bloodied.  It was safe to assume-”

“Why do you even listen to that snake anyhow?  Anythin’ he’s ever helped with has been a flop, Dutch.  He’s makin’ you forget what you stood for.”

“Oh, stop blaming Micah for your problems.  You haven’t even donated to the box since you came back.  Micah and the other men have kept up the work.”

“What?” Arthur straightened and clenched his fists.  He could feel them start to shake. “So defending the gang with my life wasn’t good enough payment?  Is physical money all you care for? Well, in that case…” Arthur opened his satchel and looked at his wad of money.  “I got money to turn in then, Dutch.” He pulled it out and counted out the bills to twenty. “But let me be straight with ya.  I got Sadie now. I got someone to provide for, care for. I will do what I must to make sure we survive.” He handed the money to Dutch, who took it with a glare.

“That’s what I’m doing.  Making sure we’re surviving,” Dutch said.

“Trustin’ a man like Angelo Bronte? I heard about that party.  You can’t trust a man like him, Dutch. Why aren’t ya seein’ straight?”

“I am.  You just have to trust me, Arthur.  Is that so hard, now?”

“Maybe.” Arthur scratched his nose and took a step back.  “Maybe. I just think you’re listenin’ to the wrong people.”  He began to walk away, swatting irritably at a fly.  

“Sadie isn’t Eliza,” Dutch called after him.  “Sadie’s a part of this gang. We’ll provide for her, just as we always have.”

Arthur turned on his heel and walked up to Dutch, inches away from his face.  “I know she isn’t,” he spat, then took a step back to cough into his hand. He cleared his throat.  “I couldn’t be there for Eliza ‘cause of you. ‘Cause of the gang. Riskin’ my life to rob and steal while Eliza took care of our son at home.  I do not intend to make that mistake again.” 

“So you intend to leave the gang?” Dutch looked cold now, more distant.  “Just like Molly.”

“No.  See, that’s the thing, Dutch.  I’m with the gang until I know you’re all safe.  But I got Sadie to think of, a possible future. Tahiti… may not be it,” Arthur said.  He had been afraid to say it. “At least not for us.”

Dutch looked at the money in his hand and put it in his front vest pocket.  “You’ve given me much to think about, Arthur. You’ve made your opinions clear.  I just need you to trust me on this, alright?”

“I don’t think I’m the only one who’s started to change, Dutch.  You don’t much resemble the man I knew, but… I’ll trust you. In the meantime, so I can see if you’re still the same man.”

“That works both ways,” Dutch said and pulled out a cigar.  “Have it your way. You’re welcome to meet Trelawny and Strauss while you’re in St. Denis.  There’s a job down there that needs to be done.”

“I’ll pass.  Send Charles. Sounds like he’s doin’ just fine, after savin’ Miss Tilly.”

“Fine.  Don’t forget to do your share, though, Arthur.”

Arthur headed towards the house, shrugging off Dutch’s comment with a wave.  “Of course.” He went around the left side of the house to grab two cups of coffee.  Only a few people were awake. Mary-Beth sat at her wagon, her journal wide open on her lap.  She was dressed in vivid clothing of blue and yellow, with her curls done perfectly across her shoulders.  

“My, you look like such a lady,” Arthur teased as he leaned over to grab the coffee pot.  “You must be excited for somethin’.”

 “Oh, you know all about it, Arthur,” Mary-Beth grinned up at him.  “Kieran’s planned out the whole day.”

“Has he now?  He a good man to you?”

Mary-Beth blushed.  “Oh, he may not look like it, but he’s a charm about him, you know?  He been talkin’ of movin’ near Strawberry and workin’ for the stables out there.  Once he’s safe from the O’Driscolls, you know.”

Arthur sipped his coffee and settled down beside her.  “And how do you feel about it?” 

“I been thinkin’... if he asked… maybe.  Maybe.” Mary-Beth shut her journal. “Guess I’ll find out later today.”  

Arthur stared into his coffee.  So he wasn’t the only one thinking of leaving.  Kieran always slept away from the gang and had yet to be fully accepted.  While the kid had chosen to be an O’Driscoll for a time, he had turned out to be a decent man.  He had actually saved Arthur’s life, which Arthur was still thankful for.

An hour later, Sadie was awake and finishing off her coffee, making small talk with the other ladies.  Arthur had gone back in the room to dress into something nicer. He chose a dark blue vest he had never worn and wore a deep blue shirt under.  He always tried to avoid the pomade, but he supposed he should make his hair look halfway decent. It was longer than he normally wore it, as it was tucked behind his ears.  He slicked his hair back and decided he was set.  

Arthur went to find Kieran who was finishing up getting the wagon ready.  They’d take the one wagon and get supplies on the way back; Pearson and Ms. Grimashaw had given a shopping list to Arthur.  

Kieran was dressed in freshly pressed clothing, his hair slicked back with pomade as well.  He wore a white shirt tucked into dark pants, with a black neck tie around his neck. Arthur could tell the boy was bumbling with nervousness as he jumped around readying the horses.  

“You alright?” Arthur asked, highly amused.  “This ain’t the end of the world. You are gonna do fine.  Well enough for an O’Driscoll, at least.”

Kieran rolled his eyes while he buckled one of the horses.  “You could call me by my name. Kieran. Try it out sometime.”

Arthur eyed him sternly.  “You tellin’ me what to do, boy?” 

Kieran paled and his hands slipped with the saddle. “No, no, Mr. Morgan, of course not-”

“I’m just playin’.  Kieran. You one of the most gullible men I ever met,” Arthur guffawed.  “I’ll go get the ladies, it looks like you about done.” 

Sadie had had a debate on what to wear - a dress or pants.  Arthur had told her didn’t mind what she wore, as long as she made sure to come along so he wouldn’t play third wheel.  She had shown up in a yellow patterned skirt and white blouse, wearing a necklace and her hair down. One small blue ribbon was tied in her hair, giving her a softer appearance.  

She still wore her belt around her waist, two pistols at either side.  “Just in case,” she had said.  

Arthur drove the wagon, Sadie next to him.  The two lovebirds sat back in the wagon, inches apart, not daring to touch each other.  Occasionally, Arthur would sneak a peek back to see if Kieran was making any moves, but so far no luck.  

As St. Denis came into view with it’s many buildings and ominous dark smoke, Mary-Beth put her hand on Kieran’s knee as she looked at the approaching city.  “Oh, isn’t it marvelous? They must have the largest bookstore around!”

“Wo-would you like to stop there first?” Kieran stuttered.  

“May we?  There’s also the theatre…”

“Anythin’ you want, Mary-Beth.” 

“What about what I want?” Arthur chimed in.  Sadie elbowed him in the chest. He was enjoying teasing the boy.

Sadie looked back at the two.  “Ignore him, please. We’ll be happy to go wherever you two want.  We just gotta make sure to stop by the general store before we leave town.”

“Sure, Mrs. Adler,” Kieran said, relief on his face.   

The crowds of St. Denis grew larger, going every single direction.  Arthur had to ask several people where the bookstore might be, and after few wrong turns, they found what they were looking for.  It was a tidy bookstore tucked away on a street corner. Once the horses were stopped, Arthur and Sadie stepped off. Kieran hopped off and held out a hand to Mary-Beth to help her down.

He peeked back at Arthur.  Arthur softly looped his arm through Sadie’s and motioned for him to do the same.  Kieran nodded and offered his own arm to Mary-Beth, who gratefully accepted.

Sadie watched with amusement as the two walked into the bookstore.  “By the end of today, you’ll have taught him everything.”

“After today he’s on his own no matter what,” Arthur rumbled.  “But he’s doin’ just fine.”

They walked into the bookstore and saw Mary-Beth practically dragging Kieran, smiling ear to ear.  Despite Kieran being nervous, he shared the same smile with her. Arthur and Sadie trailed behind, walking down the aisle next to them.  A strong scent of old books and ink lingered in the air. Arthur had forgotten about the smell. It settled around him like an old pleasant memory.

Sadie reached out and picked out a book.  She flipped through the pages. “You like readin’ much, Arthur?”

“Sure.  Here and there.  Don’t get many chances, especially not these past few years,” Arthur replied, picking up a book.  “I save my time for my journal, I guess.”

“You sure write in that a lot.”  Sadie shut the book and set it aside.  “I’d love to read it sometime. I’m so curious.  What’s it about? Your adventures? Do you create stories like Mary-Beth?”

“Nah.  It’s... it’s a place where I… reflect, I guess.  On certain things. I’m afraid it wouldn’t interest you much.”

“You’re an interestin’ man, Arthur Morgan.  I’m sure your journal is much the same.”

“Perhaps.”  Arthur peeked through a shelf, pushing a few books aside as he realized the two lovebirds had gotten quiet.  “Well, I’ll be. Sadie,” he said, speaking in a low voice. “Look. He surprises me every moment.”

Sadie stood on her tiptoes to peek through and grinned coyly.  Mary-Beth stood with her arms crossed in front of her, holding books to her chest.  She and Kieran were sharing tender kisses, his hands on either side of her face.  

“Enough to make a grown man blush,” Arthur said and stepped away.  He pulled Sadie with him and leaned his head down near hers, still holding her hands.  “He got the right idea, though. You dressed up nicely, Sadie.”

“Wore the dress you wanted… should the opportunity arrive we find a private place,” Sadie whispered in his ear.  

“Might have some time while they’re busy.”  Arthur caught her mouth in his, pressing deeply, parting her lips with his building desire.  She responded with eagerness, letting him take control. He forgot where he was, lost in the essence that was this woman.  He felt his heart swell as they kissed, not only in lust, but for love. He wanted nothing more than to be with her and only her.  Nobody else mattered.

Someone coughed, then repeated the cough twice as loud.  Arthur broke away from Sadie, face flushed and heart beating fast.  They took a step back from each other and looked away, blushing deeply.  An old woman stood at the end of the aisle, an eyebrow raised and arms crossed.  

Arthur cleared his throat and offered his arm to Sadie, not looking the old woman in the eye.  They walked to the next aisle where Mary-Beth was reading a passage to Kieran. “You gonna be long, you two?” Arthur asked them.

“Oh, yes.  There’s so much to see here,” Mary-Beth said with stars in her eyes.  “We’ll be okay here if you two want to run off somewhere. Meet here in an hour?”

“We won’t go far,” Arthur reassured her.  He led Sadie out of the bookstore, his boots clicking against the cobblestone.  They walked down the side of the building until they reached an alleyway, currently clear of people.  

“Scandalous,” Sadie said as they walked down the alleyway.  She walked a few paces in front of him, then turned around, her hair flying.  “What do you intend to do to me, Mr. Morgan, in this empty alleyway?”

“Oh, I dunno.  Steal a few more kisses away from pryin’ eyes.”  Arthur grabbed Sadie by the hips and leaned down with the intent to continue their interrupted session.

A man vomiting around the corner interrupted him.  Sadie scrunched up her nose and went to go check, leaning around the corner.  Arthur begrudgingly did the same, thinking it was some homeless drunk man. He stilled once he recognized the profile of the man. 

He shrunk back and felt an anger he hadn’t felt in a long time.  

“What’s the matter?” Sadie asked frowning.  “Do you know him?”

Arthur lightly nodded.  “That’s…”

“Arthur.  Oh, Arthur, it’s you,” a sultry voice behind him said.  “I hadn’t realized you were in town.” Mary Linton stood a few feet away, donned in a dark green dress, her hands grasped in front of her.  Her dark hair was tied back, the end curled onto one shoulder. She gazed at him with seeking brown eyes - eyes that always drew him back. “Did you get my letter?”

“I’m afraid not,” Arthur gulped.  He tipped his hat to her. “Mary. I hope you’re doin’ well.”

“As you can see, I’m not.  Especially daddy,” Mary relented, walking past Arthur to look around the corner.  “I’ve been following him to see what he’s up to.”

“Nothin’ good, as usual.”  Arthur put his hand on Sadie’s back and pushed her forward.  “Mary, meet Sadie.”

Mary’s eyes flicked over the two of them.  “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

“It’s pure luck I ran into you, Arthur.  I could use your help, here.”

Arthur pointed to the direction of her father.  “With that? Mary, your father treated me terribly.  I want nothin’ to do with him.”

“Please.  He’s wasting his life away.  And he - is he selling what I think he’s selling?” Mary put a hand over her mouth as tears welled in her eyes.  “Oh Arthur, he’s selling my mother’s brooch. It’s been missing for so long. How… how could he?”

Arthur let out a long sigh and decided to get this over quickly.  He stomped around the corner and took out a pistol. He aimed it towards the man Mary’s father was talking to, who blanched once he realized Arthur was there.

“It’s not for sale,” Arthur warned coldly.  “Mary, come get your brooch. Mr. Gillis. This ain’t a pleasure.”

Mr. Gillis, Mary’s father, sneered at the sight of him. He had aged considerably since Arthur had last seen him, with more wrinkles and fewer strands of hair.  There was still a smudge of vomit on the man’s mouth. “This ain’t your business! And oh, look here! My daughter consorting with an outlaw. Again.”

“Just a step above whorin’, which you’re familiar with,” Arthur retorted. 

Mary came closer and grabbed the brooch from the stranger.  She turned to her father and sobbed. “Daddy, how could you?”

“I don’t need to answer to you,” her daddy spat and began slinking away. 

Arthur motioned with his head.  “Get out of here,” he told the unknown buyer.  He darted away without another word.

“Daddy!” Mary cried after her father.  “Why are you doing this?”

Mr. Gillis pointed to Arthur.  “Why are you with him? You’re better than this!  He’s a lowlife - a criminal.” 

Arthur’s vision turned cloudy as a buried anger swelled in him.  He put his pistol away with shaking hands, else he might use it in a way he might regret.  Mary’s hand was on his shoulder, leading him away from her father. 

“He doesn’t mean that, Arthur.  He’s drunk,” Mary soothed.  

“Yes.  Yes, he does.”  Arthur’s throat was tight.  “I was never good enough for him.”  He looked around for Sadie then and caught the sight of her skirts turning the corner.  At once he realized it didn’t matter at that moment. It was in the past - this anger he was feeling shouldn’t matter.  He relaxed his shoulders and felt the tension fade away. He turned to Mary and grabbed her hand. “Just as I was never good enough for you.”

“Oh, Arthur, it isn’t that simple.”

“It is,” Arthur pressed.  “We kept livin’ a lie, a fantasy.  We can’t change who we are. I have Sadie, now.  I can’t keep helpin’ you on a whim. I ain’t your convenience, Mary.”

“That’s not what you are to me,” Mary pleaded.  “You never been a convenience. We were… were in love.  You meant everything to me.”

“Not enough.  And it don’t matter now.”  Arthur placed both hands over hers and squeezed lightly.  “Be well, Mary. I suspect we won’t meet again.”

“Arthur…” 

Arthur broke away and tipped his hat to her.  He left without another glance and jogged to find Sadie, intent on stopping her before she got the wrong idea about anything.  She stood at the top of the steps to the bookstore, arms crossed. She looked angry and a bit distraught.

“Sadie,” Arthur breathed, stopping at the bottom of the steps.  “It’s alright.”

“You shoulda seen your face,” Sadie said, not meeting his eyes.  “It… lit up, like I never seen before. You still care for her.”

“I do.  She was important to me for many years.”

Sadie flinched at that.  

“But she ain’t the one I’m with.  She ain’t the one who I daydream about.”  Arthur reached up and pulled Sadie down to him.  She stopped on the last step, a few inches taller than him.  He could see the hesitance in her eyes. “You are the one I’m with.  The woman I’m fallin’ in love with. Your spark. Your fire.” He held her hands in his and waited for her to respond.

Her eyes and frown softened.  “You’re a wonderful man, Arthur.  I’m sorry to have reacted. I just… got scared.  That I gave myself to you and suddenly, it might not matter.”

Arthur kissed her knuckles.  “I love _you_ , Sadie Adler.  You don’t have to say it back.  We each go at our own pace. But I want you to know that.”

“I…” Sadie began to say but was interrupted by a screech from inside the bookstore.  

The two of them dashed in, guns drawn.  They found Mary-Beth on the floor, holding her side,surrounded by fallen books. The people in the bookstore were scattering. 

 “They took him,” she heaved, tears rolling uncontrollably down her face.  “The O’Driscoll’s. They must’ve seen him from the street.” Sadie helped the young woman sit up.  “They only knocked the wind out of me,” Mary-Beth reassured them. “They went out the back. I’m sure you can catch up to them, Arthur.  Please.”

“Of course. Mary-Beth, go book yourself into a hotel and lock yourself in. It’s too risky to go back to the gang; they may follow you.”  Arthur pulled out some money and handed it to her. “Take care now.”

“Save him.  Please,” Mary-Beth sobbed. 

Arthur only squeezed her hand, then left out the back door with Sadie.  He had left all his main guns back at camp; his pistols would have to suffice.  He’d just have to be smart about it. 

“I shouldn’t have left him,” Arthur growled as he looked up and down the streets of St. Denis.  He spied a man knocked over on the ground, cursing wildly at the strangers who had caused the fall.  The O’Driscoll’s probably knocked the man over in their haste to escape. Arthur set his eyes on two horses.  “You up for some stealin’, Sadie?”

Sadie had finished tying her hair back into a tight braid.  “Thought you’d never ask.  Let's go.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was trying to make 50k words in one month. So close.


	13. Chapter 13

The two horses they stole were sturdy draft horses.  Not the fastest, but decent enough. Arthur missed the speed Roy offered.  He missed his rifles even more. He and Sadie were going into a difficult battle unprepared.  Their aim was at least better than the average O’Driscoll, who was nothing more than an average, untrained grunt.

Kieran had mentioned before how the O’Driscoll’s would kill him if they found him.  Seeing as how they had only kidnapped Kieran left Arthur hope the man was still alive.  Much like having taken Arthur captive, they might just torture Kieran before they kill him.

Arthur and Sadie left St. Denis behind, constantly asking for directions from people to see if a group of men passed.  So far they seemed to be on the right track - they were headed northwest, where Arthur was sure he had been held captive.  Luckily for Kieran, he had people who were there to look out for him and rescue him.  

“I treated him terribly,” Sadie said once they stopped for a water break for themselves and the horses.  “When he was tied to a tree. Dumped food out in front of him while he was starvin’.”

“To be fair, he  _ was _ an O’Driscoll,” Arthur pointed out.  He tightened his waterskin and grabbed the horn to his saddle to pull himself up.  “That boy did not make the best decision.”

“I know.  Just. He turned out alright.  And he don’t deserve this.”

“Nah.  He don’t. Giddy-up, girl,” Arthur said to his horse.  She broke off into a trot, with Sadie close behind. “Just as I did not deserve to be tortured.  You didn’t deserve to lose your husband. O’Driscoll’s are a bad bunch. I imagine you and I can take out a good portion this time ‘round.  If we had John or anybody else, we’d do some good damage. We just gotta be careful.”

Tracking them became harder when roads criss crossed and the horse’s tracks started becoming mixed with older tracks.  Arthur suspected it was only a handful of O’Driscolls, but one of them recognized Kieran and was taking him home to Colm.  

Once they approached a clearing, Arthur felt a chill as he realized where he was.  “We’re close, maybe a day’s ride away,” he told Sadie as they passed through.  

“How do you know?”

“I tried to escape near here.  Wasn’t able to run near far enough.  They caught up easy.” Arthur’s leg twitched as he remembered the event.  While his leg was doing a whole lot better, it still ached from time to time and he hadn’t needed the cane as much.  Yet it still felt fresh as he remembered the roar of pain rushing through him - the iron bar continually swinging down, men holding him back, his body bruised, his finger twisted, tasting the blood in his mouth, hands reaching down - 

“Arthur!” 

Arthur started, his vision returned to him.  It had gone black and hazy as the memories crawled over him.  He noticed his horse was being led off the path; he pulled on the reigns to straighten the horse.  

“You white as a ghost,” Sadie reached over and put a hand on his arm.  “You okay?”

“Just…” Arthur mumbled.  He cleared his throat. “Just remembering something I keep tryin’ to bury. Don’t mind me.”

Sadie was silent as they continued on.  “Want to talk about it?” she finally asked.  

“Not particularly.”

“I heard you, you know, durin’ the night,” Sadie said.  “You wake up and you don’t realize it.”

Arthur had chosen to ignore it, more like.  Ever since he had gotten back to camp, found Sadie, he had chosen to not think of what happened.  All it did was make him feel ill to his stomach, thinking of what the men did to him. What they could be doing to Kieran right now.  

“You zone out, wake up pale and breathin’ and sweatin’ like a pig... then you fall back asleep without a word.  And that’s that.”

When Arthur didn’t respond, Sadie continued, “You know how I was the first night we were together.  And then after you was gone for a whole month, I felt like I lost a part of me. And I did. But ever since you was back?  I been better. The nightmares have been few. I ain’t strugglin’ as hard.

“I was locked up with strangers for three days, Arthur.  I wasn’t beaten as harshly as you, no, but they still used me.”

“Sadie, you don’t have to say-”

“Yes, I think I do,” Sadie sighed.  “It was only a few men. One in particular.”  Her face was bone white as she told the tale. The horses kept up a good pace while the two talked.  “They tied me up like I was their plaything. I was defenseless - and my husband had to watch, before they killed ‘im.”

“Sadie…”

“You don’t know how it feels to have men touch you when you don’t want it - I been with only one man, Arthur.  And then suddenly that reality was no more. When you found me, I thought I was ready to die. But I kept livin’, and the girls and you showed me that.”

“I ain’t gonna compare my experience to yours; you went through more than I did,” Arthur said.  “I was tortured, and well - groped, I guess, by this man. So I do know, partly. He didn’t manage… to continue.  I was able to kill him and escape.”   

Sadie took a deep breath.  “Did it help?”

“It did.  But I still dream of it, of everythin’.”

“I think, over time, the nightmares will fade.  The girl’s - Abigail and Mary-Beth, mostly - helped me through, you know.  I was so bitter, angry. I had to worry about diseases, if I was with child…” Sadie rubbed her forehead.  “It turned out okay. At least you got closure by killin’ him, Arthur. I still ain’t got that.”

“I wouldn’t call it closure.  But… it helped,” Arthur mused.  “You ever wonder about havin’ kids, Sadie?”

Sadie jerked at that.  “Now that’s a change in topic.”

“Well, we  _ are _ sleepin’ together.  It could happen and we ain’t ever talked ‘bout it.”

“I don’t know if I can,” Sadie responded softly.  “I ain’t ever been pregnant. Whether it’s me, or… I don’t know.”  She peered over at him. “Does that bother you?”

“Nah.  But since we havin’ this deep conversation, thought I should ask.”

“You ain’t used to talkin’ about your emotions, aren’t ya?”

“No, christ,” Arthur chuckled.  “Despite everythin’, I’m glad we’re bein’ up front with each other.  There ain’t been enough of that lately, with the gang.”

“I know what you mean.”

“But - thank you.  For listenin’.” 

“You, too.”  Sadie reached across and grabbed his hand.  She gave it a light squeeze, then let go.  

Arthur didn’t know why, but he felt lighter now that he told her about it.  The nightmares had been awful and he had kept moving past them, not ready to face them.  But Sadie had done it, and so would he. She was ready to take them head-on, in fact, with guns blazing.

They traveled well into the night after the birds went silent.  Only lone wolves and coyotes howled in the distance, followed by crickets and the wind.  They didn’t pass many people on the road, which they were fine with, as they were at risk of it being an O’Driscoll.  

Arthur stopped them once he thought they were near.  They hid their horses deep off the path and hitched them to a tree.   Every step seemed familiar; Arthur had groggily been aware of the landscape when he left.  Tall trees and bushes surrounded them as they crept forward, keeping low.  

A lantern appeared in the distance.  “That’s a patrol,” Arthur whispered. “We best take him out.  I have three knives - how well is your aim?”

Sadie made a face. “I ain’t used to them.  I’ll leave that to you and give you cover if you miss.”

“That’s fine.  If we gotta do a gunfight, then we gotta.”  Arthur always kept a small amount of daggers in his satchel.  He dug out the first one and waited until the patrol was in throwing distance.  The light outlined an unpleasant face and his throat, which is what Arthur was looking for.  He tucked the dagger back and tossed it with precise aim. It met the throat with a quiet crunch and the man crumpled to the ground.

Arthur repeated the process twice as they moved forward.  Sadie had grabbed one of the rifle’s a man dropped and Arthur had grabbed the next.  They came upon the broken down farmhouse where Arthur had been kept and scouted around it.  They hid behind two large trees. Several men walked back and forth, holding guns. Two stood guard at the basement doors.  

“Kieran is in there, for sure,” Arthur huffed and ran a hand over his whiskers in thought.  “We’ll give it a few minutes to see if anyone is still in here - should’ve saved my daggers for them.  If nobody comes out of the basement, we’ll assume he’s by himself, then we’ll shoot those two men. We defend the opening.  You take left, I take right.”

“Let’s do this,”  Sadie said, her face fierce.  

They waited for the next few minutes.  Arthur could feel his hands turn clammy and sweat bead down his forehead.  He hoped Kieran was alright.  

“On my mark,” Arthur murmured after enough time had passed.  He was sure nobody was in there with Kieran; there had been no screams.  “Fire.”  

They took their shots in unison and the two guards shot backwards with a thud.  Instantly they heard shouts all around as they ran forward, taking position against crates near the entrance of the basement.  Arthur eliminated two men as they turned a corner, though misaimed with a third one and only caught the man in the shoulder. He ducked back under cover as the man let off a few quick shots, which landed scarily close to where Arthur’s head had been.

Sadie managed herself well as she made three men drop, one after the other.  Her eyes were blazing as she fired, screaming, “Damn you, O’Driscolls!” 

“Give me cover,” Arthur shouted to Sadie as he ran inside the basement.  He descended down the stairs - the very stairs he had tried to crawl up , only to be shot - and found Kieran tied to a chair.  He was slacked, his head down on his chest.  

Kieran’s shirt was ripped and starting to crust over with old blood.  

“Don’t do this,” Arthur growled as he cut the ropes.  He caught Kieran before he fell, then helped to lay him on the ground.  Once the man’s head rolled back, Arthur recoiled and felt sick.  

Kieran’s right eye had been slashed, leaving a gaping, bleeding hole.  His other eye was intact, fluttering as Kieran started to wake. Arthur looked over for other injuries; maybe a few broken ribs, a broken nose, a knife slash here and there, not deep enough to cause any worry.

“O’Driscoll, I have an idea,” Arthur said, looking the man straight in his one eye.  “You gotta play along with me. You act dead, you hear? Not a word from you.”

“Not… an O’Driscoll…” Kieran muttered, his breath faint.  He went still. Arthur leaned over to feel for breath. It was faint, but still there.  The man had only passed out.

More shots sounded from outside and Arthur rushed up the wooden stairs to help.  He could hear Sadie cursing up a storm.  

She turned to him, hair flying, the braid undone.  She had a small scratch on her cheek. “Is he-?”

“He’s dead,” Arthur shouted, letting anger seep into his voice.  “He’s dead!”

“Bastards!” Sadie screamed and shot blindly at the men hiding in the trees.  “How dare you kill him?”

Arthur picked off two in a row as their aiming was poor.  These men weren’t well trained; Colm believed in quantity, not quality.  Arthur moved up and yelled, “You bastards killed him!” 

Once two men were left, he let his hand drop and let them escape.  Sadie downed another of them and Arthur waved at her to stop. She held off, though he could tell she was ticked he stopped her. 

“Why you do that?” she hissed, stomping up to him.  “He don’t deserve-”

“Kieran’s alive. I need that man,” Arthur pointed at the escaping O’Driscoll, “to report to Colm that Kieran died.  It’s only natural we would take the man’s body to bury him. But Colm doesn’t have to know he survived.”

Sadie’s gaze became concerned.  “How is he?”

Arthur motioned for her to follow him into the basement.  “Bad. We need to get him away. We’ll take him to Charlotte’s.  She’s remote and there ain’t no O’Driscoll’s back there.”

“Would she mind?”

Arthur looked for anything in the room to wrap Kieran’s head with.  Sadie reached down and tore a long strip from her skirt. She wrapped it tenderly around Kieran’s head.  

“I hate to involve her in this, but she’s my last resort.  She’s closer than camp, and she has medical supplies. I’m goin’ to get Kieran out of this life, Sadie.  But I need you to do me a favor.” Arthur lifted Keran and put him over his shoulder. He was surprising light - just skin and bones.   _ Did the man ever eat?  _  Arthur wondered.  

They rushed out of the basement and into the dark trees, stepping over the bloodied men.  There was no time to loot anything as the O’Driscolls would be back in full force, more than enough men to overpower Arthur and Sadie.  They ran as fast as they could, Arthur moving a bit slower with the weight of Kieran.  

“What’s the favor?” Sadie asked as they were getting their horses ready.  Kieran had woken up sometime during the moving and now sat up on Arthur’s horse, though groggily.

“Get Mary-Beth.  Escort her to Charlotte’s,” Arthur told her.  “Then I’m gonna escort them to Strawberry, or anywhere they want to go.  Tell Mary-Beth she would have to leave the gang for Kieran.”

“She’d do it,” Sadie confirmed.  “She’d have to collect her things.  We’d be a week, if that.”

“Plenty of time for Kieran to get back on his feet.”  Arthur took a step to Sadie and kissed her hard. “You be careful now, you hear?  Plenty of O’Driscoll’s about. Avoid men on roads. Take a nap when you get to Mary-Beth.”

“You too, cowboy,” Sadie said to him.  She gave him a second kiss, her lips warm against his.  “Be careful. I love you.” With that, she jumped onto her horse and was gone, the horse’s hooves fading away. 

Arthur did the same.  He made sure Kieran had a good grip before he kicked the horse and then they were galloping at a fierce speed, heading to the north of the Roanoke Ridge, the words  _ I love you _ still fresh in his mind.

* * *

 

The horse was heaving by the time they reached Charlotte’s, with the sun high in the sky.  She was outside, arms deep in dirt with her gardening. Her jaw dropped when she saw the two of them and she hurried over. 

“Mr. Morgan!  How-?”

“Please, Mrs. Balfour.  If you could assist him,” Arthur said, jumping down. He helped Kieran down, then picked him up over his shoulder. 

Charlotte ran inside and held the door open for him.  “Put him on the cot, here. Take off his clothes. We need him clean.”  She went over to a washbin and started scrubbing her arms to get rid of the dirt. 

Arthur set Kieran down gently and helped the man take off his shirt.  Just the other day, the shirt had been bright white and pressed clean.  Now, the shirt was covered in a spray of dirt and dried blood. Tears leaked out of Kieran’s one eye as he settled back down on the cot.  

“You gonna be okay,” Arthur soothed. He finished undressing the man so they could assess for more injuries.  Kieran’s legs were covered in dark bruises, but nothing seemed broken.  

He let Charlotte tell him what to do, so he prepped more hot water and went to find more alcohol out in her shed while she cleaned Kieran up.  It was a few hours of watching Charlotte use her limited expertise as she cleaned and dressed Kieran’s eye. Despite being bruised all over, Kieran’s limbs were intact expect his left hand, which was possibly broken at the wrist.  She set it as best she could.

Once Kieran was cleaned and bandaged to the best of their ability, night had fallen.  Charlotte motioned for Arthur to follow her, which he did. She handed him the bucket of dirty rags and Kieran’s clothing, and together they walked to the river.  She held a bright lantern in her hands.

“You live a dangerous lifestyle,” she remarked in an exhausted voice.  

“I do.  I’m sorry, Mrs. Balfour, really I am.  It just… too dangerous to take him to St. Denis, or any town where there might be an O’Driscoll about.” 

“I think, after this, we can be on a first name business,” Charlotte laughed tiredly.  “He’s going to be okay, Arthur.”

“I didn’t wanna drag you into this life, but I ain’t got much options left.  He’s a good guy, but his old gang found ‘im. Me and Sadie just barely saved him.”

Charlotte nodded.  “Where is she? Safe, I hope.”

“Off to get Mary-Beth, his… intended.  She’s gonna meet me here, and then I’ll send the two off somewhere safe.”

“They’re more than welcome to stay here until they decide where to go.” 

They passed by Cal’s grave, a small moment of silence between them.  It was still too recent; Cal had only passed a little more than a week ago.  Yet Charlotte had persisted on with her life. 

Arthur let out a defeated sigh.  They had reached the riverbank and he set aside the bucket.  “You’re kind, Charlotte. I hope one day I can repay you.”

“Don’t,” Charlotte chided.  “Here’s some soap, if you could clean his clothing and these rags.  We may need them by morning. I’d do it, but someone needs to stay by Kieran’s side in case he wakes.”

“Of course,” Arthur agreed.  He spent the next thirty minutes washing rags by lantern light, losing himself in his thoughts.  He was determined to see Mary-Beth and Kieran safe and sound. They may not have much money, but Kieran was excellent with horses.  He would easily find a job somewhere at a stable or a ranch. That could potentially provide housing and Mary-Beth could finally write her novels without having to be afraid for her life.

Next, John, Abigail, and Jack.  He just didn’t know how or when it would happen.  Without Mary-Beth, Tilly might leave. Same with Karen. But where?  And how? With what money?

Arthur contemplated on this as he walked back, the noise of the waterfall fading behind him.  All in due time, he supposed. For now, he would have to prove he was still part of the gang. His absence and lack of participation in outings hasn’t done anything to help his standing.

When he was inside, he placed the rags and clothing on a line across the fireplace, then sank onto the couch.  He kicked off his boot and laid aside his belt. Having been awake for more than twenty four hours, he was asleep within seconds once his face hit the pillow.

He slept in a dreamless state.

“Mr. Morgan.”

Arthur blinked and sat up with a start.  It was unclear how much time had passed.

“I think you slept more than I did,” Kieran said with a smile.  He leaned against the wall behind the bed, a bowl of soup on his lap.  The bandage around his head had been freshly changed. “It’s been hours.”

Arthuy lightly coughed into his hand and stood.  He straightened his clothing. “Glad to see you awake.”

“You think Mary-Beth will still like me?” Kieran inquired in a sad voice.  “Now that I ain’t a whole man.”

“What?” Arthur looked him up and down.  “Women love scars. Look at Abigail and John.”

“This ain’t no scar.” Kieran reached up a hand to his face and flinched.  “I’m deformed now, Mr. Morgan. I’ll only scare her away.”

“Ah, I’ll get you an eye patch,” Arthur said, sitting in the chair next to the cot.  “You ain’t deformed, Kieran. She sure didn’t fall for your looks, anyhow. She fell for you.”  Arthur poked Kieran in the chest lightly. “And that’s what matters.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.” 

Silence fell between them as they regarded each other.  

“Thank you, Arthur.  You saved my life.”

“Sure.  Don’t go gettin’ captured by O’Driscolls again, you hear?”

“I could say the same to you.”

Arthur snorted.  “Fair. Well, anyhow, rest up.  Charlotte treatin’ you well?”

Kieran held up the soup with a grin, one of his hands wrapped with a splint.  “She makes the best rabbit soup.”

“That she does. I’mma go find her.  I’ll be back.” Arthur grabbed some soup before he left so he could eat it while he stretched his legs.  He had slept hard and uncomfortably. The couch left a small tweak in his back.

He found Charlotte at her garden plot, once again up to her elbows in dirt.  Her dark hair was tied behind her loosely, with strands of hair going in every single direction.  She looked back at him and smiled. “You’re awake. You must’ve been tired.”

Arthur swallowed a bite of the soup and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “Very.  We rode long and hard last night. I all but forgot about the horse.”

“Horse is fine.  Where’s Roy?”

“Back at camp.  I didn’t have time to grab him.  Sadie might bring him back, though.  It may be another week.”

“So you plan to be here a week then?” 

“If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.  I just might put you to work, that’s all.”

“Anythin’ you want.”

She had him follow her to the back of the house.  “I want goats, but I don’t have a proper pen to put them in.  Here’s the lumber, all ready to go. I just want a fence from here,” she pointed to an area, “to there.  Think you can do that?”

“Let me get into a fresh change of clothin’, and I’ll get to it.”

He spent the next several hours arranging the wood and nailing them in.  He could feel his muscles straining against the movement, having not done it in some time.  He had lost some weight and strength ever since he fought the infection from his wounds and had yet to gain it back. 

By the second day, Kieran had moved outside to watch him work.  While he was still healing, he was by all accounts going to live.  The lack of an eye caused immense pain which he kept drowning out with whiskey.  Charlotte didn’t have much else for a painkiller.  

“Cut my hair,” Kieran mumbled to Arthur.

Arthur stopped with the fence, sledgehammer in his hand, and ran his other hand behind his neck.  Lord, he was tired and his back ached like nothing else. “Why do you want your hair cut?”

“To hide my face.”  Kieran demonstrated by moving his hair forward to cover his right eye.  “Like this.” 

“You can do that now just fine.”

“It’s hot, and I’m tired of havin’ it long.”

“I ain’t much of a hair person.” Arthur pointed to his own hair which was several inches past his ears.  “If I can’t do mine, I can’t do yours. I’ll get Charlotte.” 

Ten minutes later, they sat around the fire outside.  Arthur prepped some venison on the grill while Charlotte held scissors in her hand and contemplated Kieran’s hair.  It was only noon and the sun was scorching. Charlotte had her own hair tied up and her sleeves pulled back, with her skirt covered in dirt as she continued to build garden plots.  

“I’m not very good at this, but I had cut my husband’s hair a few times,” she relented and went to work.  “It’ll look a bit odd, if you want to cover your eye like that.”

“I’ll leave it to your hands,” Kieran confirmed and took another swig of whiskey. 

* * *

 

A week passed.  Arthur smoked a cigarette at the end of the road, impatiently waiting for Sadie to show.  He supposed it should have been him to go retrieve Mary-Beth; it was a longer journey and potentially more risk for trouble.  But Arthur felt personally responsible for intruding on Charlotte. He didn’t want to send Sadie and Kieran here, and there suddenly be an attack.

Sadie was just as good as Arthur in a fight.  Either way, he hated waiting.

The next night it threatening to thunder and downpour.  He stayed by the end of the road, wearing a light jacket and smoking his last cigarette.  He had smoked through his stash the entire week, which was slightly unusual for him. He hated waiting around so much. He had done plenty of chores to help with Charlotte, but he couldn’t help but feel powerless.  Sadie was out there, possibly in trouble.

“Here’s dinner,” Charlotte said behind him, nearly startling him.  She held out a plate of potatoes, veggies, and meat. “She’ll show.  Don’t worry, Arthur.”

“I know,” Arthur said and took the plate.  He munched on a piece of meat, savoring the juices.  “You know your offer of land, Charlotte?”

“Yes.”

Arthur dropped his cigarette and snuffed it out with his boot.  “I may take you up on it. Don’t know when. I gotta get back to my gang and figure stuff out.  We doin’ stuff… I ain’t too proud about.”

“Is that why you helped Kieran and Mary-Beth?”

“I suppose.  They was easier to get out than most, given the situation.”

Charlotte gave him a smile.  “You’re always welcome here. You know that.”

“I ain’t gonna drag you into this much longer.  Kieran’s able to travel by now. If I return, I hope it’s not related to my gang.”

“I trust you.  I best be getting back.  Don’t wait too long. It looks like it’s about to rain any second.”

That didn’t matter to Arthur. He waited another hour while thunder roared in the distance.  The wind had picked up with a few sprinkles. He merely waited against a tree with his arms crossed.

He nearly started dozing standing up, then a light caught his attention, snapping him wide awake.  He kept his hand on his pistol and hid himself behind the tree. Once they were closer, he peeked out, and he felt instant relief.  He broke from his cover and ran to them.

Sadie was riding Bob, while Mary-Beth was riding Roy.  Luggage was attached to either side of the saddle. Mary-Beth had come prepared to leave for good.  The two women’s face brightened once they saw Arthur. Sadie jumped off from her horse and hugged him with a bone crushing grip.

“You two made it,” Arthur gleamed. “I been waitin’.”

“Is he-?” Mary-Beth stuttered.  As she tried to step off her horse, she nearly fell off the horse in excitement.

“He’s just fine.  Let’s get you to him.”

Once they were at the house, Arthur opened the front door and shook off his hat from the rain.  “Kieran. There’s somebody here to see you.”

Kieran was pale, but his cheeks flushed.  He got up from the couch and set a book aside.  “Mary-Beth?”

Mary-Beth stepped around Arthur and burst into tears at the sight of Kieran.  She ran up to him and they embraced as she sobbed into his shoulder.  

“Sadie told me you lost an eye!  Oh, Kieran, I’m so sorry. I’m so glad you’re safe.”

“I’ll understand if you don’t want me,” Kieran said, pushing her away.  “I ain’t much to look at, anymore.”

“I didn’t fall in love with you for your looks, anyhow,” Mary-Beth deemed, tears cascading freely down her cheeks.  “I fell in love with your personality, you awful man.”  

Arthur chuckled and whispered, “Told you.”  He put an arm around Sadie and pulled her close.  There were heavy bags around Sadie’s eyes and she leaned heavily on him.  She was once again dressed in pants and her yellow shirt, covered in grime from head to toe.  

“I said my goodbyes,” Mary-Beth said, wiping her eyes.  “To everyone in camp. I don’t have much in money, Kieran.  But we can make it work - go north, west, somewhere.”

“I was thinkin’ Strawberry,” Kieran said.  “There’s stables out there. When it’s slow, I can work in the lumber business.  We’ll find someplace to stay. Anythin’ for you, Mary-Beth.”

Charlotte was watching this from the archway of her bedroom, arms crossed, a sad smile on her face.  Unshed tears were in her eyes. “Make yourself at home,” she said. She rubbed her eyes and closed her bedroom door behind her.

“We’ll go sleep out in the shed,” Arthur said and grabbed his sleeping roll.  He took Sadie by the hand and they left the two so they could catch up and figure themselves out.  Arthur went to work unloading the horses, with Sadie oddly quiet.

“You okay?” Arthur asked her once all was said and done, their sleeping rolls over fresh hay.  

“I’m tired,” Sadie responded and fell down on her sleeping roll with a soft thunk.   Arthur laid beside her and pulled her towards him. “They wasn’t happy, Arthur. Dutch, Micah.  They wanted to know why Mary-Beth was leavin’. Micah accused you of not comin’ back.”

“I will.  I just gotta make sure these two are alright.”

“Abigail’s ready to leave.  At any moment. Dutch’s plans keep goin’ wrong - they tried to rob the trolley station because they had information it was full of money.  It wasn’t. The law was there instead. So now they workin’ on a new plan.”

Arthur let out a frustrated sigh. 

“I’m gonna sleep now.  I missed you,” Sadie mumbled into his shoulder.  She was out within seconds. Arthur held her close, feeling grim.

There was always a plan.


	14. Chapter 14

They left after two days.  Charlotte prepared a bunch of food for the road with Mary-Beth’s help.  They bid their goodbyes and set off, their hopes high. Kieran and Mary-Beth shared the draft horse, while Sadie and Arthur road their own horses.  Strawberry was west and a several day’s ride away. Sun followed them as they traveled, making their venture painless.  

“We’ll wait until they got a place to stay,” Arthur said.  They had stopped for the first night under a cover of trees and sat around a campfire.  “I have a stop to make on the way back. Then we’ll head to the gang and see what’s happenin’.”

“Who you gonna see?” Sadie asked.  The bags around her eyes had faded, leaving her looking like her usual self.  She was leaning against him with his arms wrapped around her.  

“Francis Sinclair, the man who wanted the rock carvings.  Should be a short visit.”

Kieran and Mary-Beth sat huddled together, speaking in low voices, oblivious to the two of them. Kieran’s eye was still healing and the pain was less, though he still wore a bandage around his head.  The haircut Charlotte had given him was a bit choppy and lopsided, but Kieran had been satisfied with it. His bangs covered most of his eye.  

“And what are you two lovebirds whisperin’ about?” Arthur teased them.  

“Oh.  This and that,” Mary-Beth responded.  Her eyes danced in the firelight. “Thinkin’ about the future.  If we wanna stay, make a home, or eventually go to New York, or somethin’...” She looked at the fire and shrugged.  “I might have to give up bein’ a thief, stealin’ things… if we wanna make this work.”

“I’ll provide for us,” Kieran promised. “Don’t you worry.”

“Maybe a trinket, here and there.”

Kieran snickered.  “Would be surprised if you didn’t.”

Once they arrived in Strawberry without any trouble, Kieran was true to his word.  He cleaned himself up and went to the stables, while the three of them waited impatiently outside of town.  Arthur still didn’t like walking through Strawberry ever since the Micah incident. It was a tidy, nice little town that had been ruined for him. All he remembered was the damn pointless bloodshed.

Kieran met up with them a couple hours later, a wide grin across his face.  He took Mary-Beth’s hands in his. “They hired me on as a stablehand, once they saw I knew how to work with horses.  They plan to expand due to Strawberry drawin’ in all sorts of visitors. They mentioned a farm not far from here that might be rentin’ a room, we could check it out.  We have enough to start. It ain’t much, but I could put food on the table.”

“That’s wonderful!” Mary-Beth gushed.  

Arthur and Sadie said their goodbyes to them late afternoon just outside the farm.  It was a smaller farm, with cows, goats, and other miscellaneous livestock belonging to a pleasant family.  “You take care now,” Sadie sniffed and hugged Mary-Beth. “You keep in touch, you hear?”

“You as well!” Mary-Beth said, her tears flowing freely.  

Kieran shook Arthur’s hand.  “You saved my life. I wish I could repay you.”

“Figured I owed it to ya,” Arthur said.  “Consider it even. You stay strong for Mary-Beth, O’Driscoll.”

Kieran blushed.  “What is it gonna take for you to stop callin’ me that?”

“Dunno.  I’ll come up with somethin’ else when I see you next.  Now, Mary-Beth. You be in touch if you ever need help, you hear?”

“We plan on gettin’ married come winter,” Mary-Beth looked to Kieran, sharing a loving smile with him.  “We’ll send out a notice. We’d like you two to be there.”

“Of course.  We’ll be there.”  Arthur gave her a long hug, then waved the two of them off. He would miss the girl something fierce.  She had always been a bright part of the gang, a person he had always looked forward to hanging out and talking with. 

Once the two of them were out of sight, Arthur and Sadie made their way toward Francis Sinclair’s place, feeling bittersweet.  It was just north of Strawberry, a small side tour. The two of them were silent, a mutual sadness creeping over them. It was always tough saying goodbye, Arthur mused.  He hadn’t had to do it often in this way; usually a person had died. Nobody ever really volunteered to leave the gang of their own means. Hosea and Bessy had, though they had found their way back.  

He hoped that wouldn’t be the case for Kieran and Mary-Beth.

When they approached a small, tidy and well built cottage, Arthur hopped off his horse.  “This is the place,” Arthur said. “Let’s see if you can understand the man. It was nonsense, the way he was speakin’.”

He knocked on the door and waited.  The door didn’t budge and the house was silent from inside.

Sadie peered through a window.  “Maybe he ain’t home.”

Curiosity got the better of Arthur.  He opened the door and peeked in. The room was spotless, with a humble amount of simple furniture and decorations. There was a haphazard mess of papers pinned to the wall which caught his attention.

They were much like the carvings he had seen.  Depictions of people, scribbles, and nonsense. It didn’t make any sense to him.   

“Yes, can I help you?” a woman said from behind.  A dark haired woman holding a baby stood by the edge of her house, apprehension on her face.  

Arthur shut the door quickly and turned to her while taking off his hat.  “Sorry, ma’am. I’m lookin’ for your husband.”

“My husband?” 

“Yes.  A Mr. Francis Sinclair?”

“That’s not my husband,” she said, frowning.  “That’s my son.” She looked down to the baby in her arms.  “He was born right after my husband Tom died over a year ago.”

“That don’t…” Arthur paused once he saw the child.  He remembered Francis to have orange hair and a very distinct birthmark on his face, a red splotch over one eye.  That child had the same distinct birthmark, the same bright orange hair. “I… must be mistaken. My apologies for bothering you, ma’am.  You have a nice day, now.” He put on his hat and went to his horse.

Once he and Sadie had ridden a distance away, he stopped his horse.  “I don’t get it. That child had the same red hair and birthmark as Francis did. The exact same.”

“Maybe you misheard his name?” Sadie suggested.

“No.  In fact…” Arthur grabbed his satchel and dug around.  “I had a business card. Here it is.” He pulled it out and found that it did in fact say Francis.  “I don’t understand. This means I don’t get my money, though.”

“A face like that would be hard to miss.  Maybe you’ll run into him, eventually.”

“Doubt it.  Worth a shot, though.  Let’s head home.”

* * *

Their first night back at camp was uneventful.  Dutch was out on a lead, though Arthur noticed a few new horses that weren’t familiar to him.  He and Sadie unpacked their things. Sadie went to go find Abigail, while Arthur went to go find John.  The camp was more quiet than usual, with everyone minding their own business.  

He found John sitting with Charles smoking their cigarettes at the edge of camp.  “There he is!” John said, waving Arthur over. “You been gone for so long, I was beginnin’ to forget what you looked like.”

“A face like mine? Can’t say I blame ya,” Arthur huffed.  He accepted a cigarette from Charles and lit it. “What you boys been up to lately?”  

“Same old.  Runnin’ errands for Dutch, robbin’, stealin’...” John said with a bitter tone.  “Bein’ disappointed. Abigail’s been pressurin’ me somethin’ fierce to leave like Mary-Beth did.  I blame you, Morgan.”

“Can’t run from  _ love _ ,” Arthur said sarcastically.  “At least those two knew what path to take.”

“Meanwhile, we’re here in a swamp boilin’ crickets for dinner.  Basically.” John blew out a puff of smoke and scratched his whiskers.  “We just waitin’ to go meet up with Dutch. He has a big plan happenin’ tonight, and he would want you to go.  We’ll leave in less than an hour.”

“You taggin’ along, Charles?” Arthur asked.

“Nah.  I’m sitting this one out.  Micah brought in a couple friends… I’d rather not associate myself with.”  Charles expression darked.

“And Dutch allowed this?” 

Charles flicked his cigarette to the dirt and snuffed it out with his boot.  “Our input is not as valuable as Micah’s, I feel. This is all going down hill.  You’ve seen it, Arthur. With you being gone and acting on your own? It’s gotten the camp thinking.  People are being more vocal. And Dutch doesn’t like it. Micah’s been sticking to him and doing everything Dutch says, so if Micah can bring in a couple trigger happy men, Dutch is all for it. 

“Besides,” Charles continued.  “I’m heading out to the Wapiti Reservation in the morning.  It’s not going to well out there and I’d like to help them. And I’d rather you not tell Dutch where I plan to go.  I’ll return, but with the way Dutch is acting? I don’t want him involved.”

“Fair.  Anythin’ else I should know about?”

“There’s Cleet.  And Joe, Micah’s buddies,” John elaborated.  “They ain’t comin’ along tonight, but they around.  They ain’t the most pleasant of folk.”

Arthur turned to John.  “Guess I’ll get myself ready to tag along.  Where we headed?” 

“Lagras.  Dutch is there with Micah already.  Bill and Lenny will be comin’ with us, too.”

Arthur searched for Bill and Lenny and found them saddling their horses.  He waved away a fly by his face and let out a long sigh. He hadn’t thought he would be riding out so soon, but that’s Dutch - always on the move.  He left the men to go let Sadie know he’d be gone for the night. 

He found her with Abigail.  They were sitting on wooden chairs on the deck on the first floor, watching the fireflies dance around the bushes.  Jack sat nearby, his legs dangling over the deck. Arthur sat down next to him.

“How you doin’, Jack?” 

“Just fine, Uncle Arthur.  I’ve been missing you. It’s boring here,” Jack said, dismayed.  

“Hosea’s been workin’ on his readin’ and writin’ with him,” Abigail said proudly.  She had a shawl over her shoulders and a cup of tea in her hands. Her hair was tied back, as was her usual style.  Arthur couldn’t help but think she looked more tired than usual. “Go grab your books and show him, Jack.”

“Okay!” Jack got to his feet and scurried inside, the door creaking shut behind him. 

“You ridin’ with John?” Abigail asked once he was gone.  

“Guess so.”

Sadie’s eyes lit up.  “Where you headed? Am I goin’?”

“We’re takin’ Lenny, Bill, John.  There ain’t gonna be much people left to defend the camp.  You can stay, or you can go. It’s up to you.”

“We still got some men to defend the camp.  I’ll go.”

“Dutch may not like it.”

Sadie scoffed.  “He ain’t like a lot of things.  I can help.” She took her hat off and ran a hand through her hair and began braiding it.  She always wore her hair back when she was prepared to fight, Arthur noticed. Otherwise, her hair would be flying, a golden mane let loose when she rampaged.  “I’m going to get Bob ready. I’ll be back.” Sadie stood and went into the house.

“You a lucky man, Arthur,” Abigail said softly, her eyes focused on the aged doors.  “I ain’t seen you this happy since... “ she trailed off. “You never let anyone in until her.”

Arthur stared at the light from the fireflies.  He didn’t mind the bugs so much as they were harmless.  The west lacked them. Fireflies were one of the only good things about living in the east.  “She’s special. Determined. Always fightin’. She sets my mind straight, I guess. I been seein’ things more clearly.”

“I want a nicer place for Jack.  Those men Micah brought in… they keep makin’ comments about me.  Karen. They cornered Tilly the other day. Dutch ain’t doing nothin’.  We gotta get out, Arthur. I keep tellin’ John.”

Jack hurried out then, a pile of books in his arms.  He dropped them into Arthur’s lap with his face lit up.  “These are all the books Hosea is reading to me! I’ve been writing in this one.”  He handed an old, torn up book to Arthur.

Arthur flipped through it, noticing the scribbles only slightly resembled letters.  “Why, look at you. You a master already.” He shut it closed and patted Jack on the head.  “I gotta go now, but you take care of your mother, okay?”

“Okay!”

Arthur got to his feet and placed a hand on Abigail’s shoulder.  “When I get back, we will talk. I have an idea I want to run by you.”  With her nod, he left and went to go clean his weapons.

Within thirty minutes, the group was headed toward Lagras, the stars hidden by looming clouds.  John explained it along the way - they were after Angelo Bronte, the man who had kidnapped Jack.  The goal was simple: kidnap Angelo Bronte. What Dutch wanted to do with him - hold him for ransom and the like, it was up to him. They were in for a gunfight, nonetheless.  

Arthur couldn’t help but feel like it was an out of place mission.  Ransom wasn’t typically something the van der Linde gang did. While he had no qualms against fighting and stealing from corrupt men, Arthur wondered if the gang would get anything out of it, or if it was worth it at all.  He had to see this through, if only to see how Dutch was. 

Dutch and Micah were waiting for them at a dock with a boat.  Once Dutch caught sight of Arthur, he made his way over to shake his hand.  Micah didn’t hold back his scowl.

 “Glad you could join us,” Dutch said in a stern voice, then his eyes flicked over to Sadie.  “But I didn’t invite the Mrs. Adler.”

“She’s a decent shot,” Arthur defended.  

“I can help,” Sadie added.  “Just tell me when and where.”

“Fine.  Keep her with you, Arthur.”  He motioned for people to hop on the boat.  “Let’s move out.”  

There was a man ready to take them toward Bronte’s mansion.  The man navigated the water easily, pushing them along with one lone lantern hanging from the boat.  Alligators wheezed at the boat as they passed through the water. 

Arthur felt sweat drip along the side of his face and back.  Alligator infested waters were not his favorite. Everybody on the boat was uneasy - one fall into the water and it could be over very shortly. 

Dutch and Bill made light conversation as they went, though everyone went silent once they approached the mansion.  They pulled up to the dock and moved off as quiet as they could, Arthur sticking with John and Sadie. Men stood guard outside in the garden area.  

Arthur waited for Dutch’s cue to move, though Micah was the first to advance. He took the first shot and downed a guard, then all hell broke loose.  Gunshots echoed all around Arthur as he moved out of cover, aiming at a guard by the side of the house. He caught the guard in the neck, the blood splattering the wall.  

They kept advancing, downing the surprised guards left and right.  Several backed up into the house and locked the wide double doors just as Arthur tried to barge through.  Dutch tossed him a shotgun, which he used to shoot the lock. He kicked the door down and quickly took aim at a guard standing in the hallway and hit him in the chest.  

Once the door was open, the gang split up and began searching the rooms for Bronte.  Sadie headed towards the stairs and shot twice at a man on the top floor. He gasped and fell forward, his body topping down the stairs.  Arthur followed her upstairs and barged through several rooms, not finding anything. 

Bronte’s mansion reeked of wealth and money.  Each room had been elaborately decorated with carpets and paintings and books, only to be desecrated by the bodies of the guards.   _ No amount of wealth was going to save this man,  _ Arthur thought. 

There was only one more place left.  Arthur shoved open the door with his shoulder and looked around and picked off a guard.  The guard fell backwards, his brains splattering the floor. There was a large, fancy bed in the room and an archway leading to a washroom.  A man peeked his head from the tub, dressed in an expensive bathrobe, and aimed a small pistol at Arthur - but nothing happened. John shrunk around Arthur, only to be caught in the face with the gun the man hurled at them.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, friend.  Name your price. Every man has a price,” the man said in a thick Italian accent, who Arthur assumed to be Angelo Bronte. 

John stomped up to him and landed a fist on the Italian man’s face.  The man crumpled to the ground, knocked out cold. “I ain’t touchin’ that piece of shit.”

With a sigh, Arthur wrapped his gun around his shoulder and picked up the small Italian man.  Sadie led the way down the stairs, followed by Arthur and John, ready to shoot anyone who made an appearance.  More men had appeared outside, a mix of lawmen and bodyguards.  

Arthur stepped over a fallen man and slid on the blood, only just catching himself by grabbing the wall.  He stopped to stare at the aftermath of the shooting. Bodies. More and more dead men because of the van der Linde gang.  Because of Dutch.  

“Hey,” Sadie murmured and put a hand on his elbow.  “It’s time to go.”

He let himself be led out, though came back to his senses once a bullet whizzed past his head.  He grabbed his pistol and killed the man, then went on his way through the garden. The garden was littered with blood and guts.  He made his way towards the docks, trying to blur out the bodies. He let Sadie get on first, then dropped Bronte into the boat.  

Once there was a break in gunfire, everyone hopped in the boat and the driver started moving the boat away into the marsh, the dark waters and trees quickly enveloping them.  Arthur’s nerves didn’t settle until they were a ways away. Bronte began to groan and only came to when the boat was docked near Lagras.

“Hey, big man.  We gonna ransom you or what,” Dutch said, his voice harsh. During the fight, his shirt had become untucked and his hair unkempt, which was unusual for Dutch.  He kneeled in front of Bronte to be eye level with him.  

“You’re pathetic,” Bronte snapped. The bandana around his head begun to slip and there was blood leaking from his lip; John hadn’t held back.  

Dutch’s face was cold and relentless.  Arthur was used to seeing Dutch angry, but never with a venom like now.  “Oh. I am? Because from where I’m sitting, you’re the one deserving of pity, my friend.  All your men, all your money, it weren’t no match for a bunch of bumpkins.”

“You are nothing.  You do nothing. You mean nothing,” Bronte sneered, his tone condescending.  “You stand for nothing. Me? I run a city and when the law catch up to you… you will die like nothing.  I am this country. You, you are what people are running from.”

“I possess things you will never understand.”

“You don’t even possess your own men.  A thousand dollars to the man who kills him and sets me free!” Bronte looked from man to man, doubt flickering on his face as everyone was silent.

Despite Arthur’s misgivings about Dutch, there was no way in hell he’d betray his gang like that.  How foolish was this Bronte?

Dutch let it sink in.  “What are you gonna say now?”

“They are even bigger fools than you.  No doubt. The law will find you, already the dogs are on their way.”

“You’re right.  You are so right.”  Dutch reached over and put a hand behind Bronte’s neck.  He grabbed hold of the shirt collar and shook him. “They are good at smelling filth, huh?  So filth has got to be disposed of!” Dutch twisted Bronte and pushed his face into the water.  Bronte struggled against his grip. “Your friends the Pinkertons gonna come and rescue you? You repulsive little maggot!  Call them now! You call them!” 

Arthur moved forward and put a hand on Dutch’s arm to pull him back.  “What are you doin’, Dutch? You’re gonna kill him! What is that goin’ to solve?”

“We must rid the city of him if we wanna move forward, Arthur!” Dutch let go of Bronte as he was pulled away by Arthur.  Bronte sat gasping over the railing of the boat and cursed up a storm in Italian.  

By now, most of the men had hopped off the boat except Arthur and Dutch.  Micah stepped back onto the boat and shoved Arthur away from Dutch. “Let the man do his work, Morgan!” Micah demanded.  “This is all part of the plan!”

“What plan?” Arthur shot back.  “This ain’t how we work! He ain’t a good man but we ain’t the kind who kill in cold blood!”

“Things change!  If we want to get money, this is what we have to do!  Why are you questionin’ Dutch? You think you’re in charge?” Micah inquired.  

“No, I do not.  I never have, it’s just-”

“You thinkin’ of takin’ up Bronte’s offer?”

Arthur reached out and grabbed Micah by the shirt.  Micah merely laughed harshly. “You are a snake, Micah.  I would  _ never _ betray the gang like that.”  He wanted nothing more than to jam a knife into Micah’s smiling mouth - Micah was enjoying this.  He shoved Micah away, causing the boat to shuffle back and forth.

Dutch was watching the exchange between them with a dark look.  “It must be done, Arthur,” he said simply. He turned to Bronte and grabbed him by the robe.  As Bronte protested, Duch tossed the man into the water, where one lone, extremely large alligator was waiting.

Bronte screamed and struggled in the cold water, only to be quickly yanked under as the alligator feasted.

“Jesus,” John said from the dock, his face shocked.  “What part of your philosophy books cover feeding a feller to a goddamn alligator, Dutch?”

Dutch stood and straightened his vest.  “The part that covers weakness. That part.”

“I don’t know…” John muttered.

“Well, I do.  It ain’t nice, I know it.  But it is us, or him.” Dutch stepped on the dock and looked back at the men.  “I figure it might as well be him.” He walked off to the horses, followed by the other men.

Micah stayed behind.  “You boys best know where your loyalty lie,” Micah warned them.  “This ain’t a useless gang no more. We’re after money - real money.  And you boys need to pull your weight.”

“Get out of here,” Arthur retorted.  He stepped out of the boat and went to Sadie.  He lightly pushed her to move forward ahead of him and avoided looking at Micah.  “You a walkin’ pile of shit.”

“No, I leave that job to you.”  Micah went to his horse and stepped on. With a final glare, he followed Dutch and the other men.

Arthur took his time getting on his horse, his mind racing.  He could feel John’s eyes on him. Arthur just said he’d never betray Dutch, but… he couldn’t help but feel that was exactly what he was thinking.  The course the gang was headed on was littered with blood and bodies - and Arthur wanted no part of it.  

Once they started down the road, Arthur said, “I’m done,” not quite believing his own voice.  “John - I want you to leave with me. You seen how Dutch is. It ain’t a safe life for little Jack.  Dutch keeps puttin’ us in danger. We keep survivin’, but we losin’ people one by one. Look at Sean. Jenny.  Mac. Who’s next?” 

“It ain’t…” John struggled with his words.  “It ain’t that easy. This has been our life, Arthur.  We outlaws. This is… we… I don’t know how to not be an outlaw.  Leavin’ Dutch? Hosea? The other men?”

“Tilly’s ready to leave,” Sadie cut in.  She patted Bob on the side of the head while she spoke.  “She’s been socializin’ with the people in St. Denis when she been out.  There’s a job available to her in a kitchen whenever she wants it. If Abigail leaves, she’d leave too.  She’d be safe in St. Denis, she says. She don’t feel safe around Cleet or Joe, either. None of the women do.”

The three of them were taking their time on the way back to Shady Belle, the sound of the horse’s hooves against rock and dirt filling the silence. There was still Karen to think of, Lenny, Hosea, Pearson… anyone who might have a thought to leave.  Arthur did not have a solution to help them all, but he couldn’t keep holding back. Not anymore.

“Out of all of us… you been with him from the beginnin’,” John said.  “You been his most loyal. I just… what’s your plan?”

“We get land.  I know someone who can help us,” Arthur admitted.  “We start a farm. A ranch. Somethin’ along those lines.  I dunno, John. I ain’t anythin’ more than an outlaw, just like you.  But this world don’t want us no more.”

John groaned and looked up to the stars which had finally come out to shine.  The sun wasn’t far behind as light began to hint over the mountains. “I need to think.  Let me discuss it with Abigail.” He lightly kicked his horse to move ahead of them, leaving them alone.

“I realize I asked John before I asked ya,” Arthur meekly said to Sadie. He shifted uncomfortably in the saddle. “I just assumed you would leave with me.”

“Don’t be daft.  Of course I’d go with you,” Sadie responded.  Her gaze softened. “I know this is gonna be hard for you.  But I’m with you now, not the gang.”

Arthur wished he could kiss her at that moment.  Despite everything happening with the gang, he was happy to be with her.  “You a good woman, Sadie. Thank you.”

“Someone has to be.”


	15. Chapter 15

After Arthur had gotten some much needed sleep after the Bronte fiasco and helped with the morning chores, he knocked softly on Abigail’s door to her room.  He had heard John and Abigail arguing and had held off talking to the two of them all morning. With a hole in the wall, he could see her sitting on an old rocking chair, a book in her hands.  She couldn’t read it - she had never learned to read or write. Abigail waved him in and opened the book.  

“It’s Jack’s.  Claims he’s gonna start a journal like you,” she said, a small gleam in her eye.  A light breeze drifted in from the open window and rustled her hair. “His drawing’s ain’t much to look at, but here’s Cain, see?”

Arthur walked over and took the book from her.  The drawing of Cain was nothing more than a few lines with sticks for legs.  Granted, Arthur probably wasn’t much better at Jack’s age. “He has talent, maybe.  Wonder where he got it from,” he said and shut the book closed. He moved to sit on the tiny bed in the room.

“Sure ain’t me.  And John - ain’t no way.  I seen his scribbles and it ain’t pretty.”

“Did John… talk to you?”  

“Argued with me, more like.”  Abigail adjusted her shawl and leaned back.  “He knows what I want. What’s good for Jack.  John needs to decide for himself, now. You know… out of all the people thinkin’ of leavin’... why you?”

Arthur looked down at his hands and tried scraping some random dirt off.  He hadn’t yet washed from helping with the chores. Everybody was always confused as to why  _ he _ was the one leaving.  “I messed up once, when I had Eliza.  I chose this gang over her. I never wanted to repeat what I done, after she died.  Sadie… she’s the first woman who I’m gonna do right by.”

There had been a time when Arthur had proposed to Abigail, after John had left her once Jack was born.  There was no word whether or not John would return, so Arthur had tried to make things right to Abigail.  Yet, she had refused him, so determined John would return. Arthur had never seen someone so smitten for someone.  In a way, he was jealous of Abigail’s loyalty. She hadn’t faltered or given up.  

That’s how he wanted to be to Sadie.  With Eliza, he had only been there a few days at a time before he had to move on.  Isaac had been a great kid - a kid Arthur barely got to raise. It hadn’t been easy, for Eliza or Isaac.  

But he had chosen his gang over her and she and his son had died for it.  From then on, he had dedicated all he was to his gang to make sure they survive.  And now, he didn’t know if he deserved freedom from the gang, but he was sure as hell going to try.  

“You have land?” Abigail asked.  

“It’s possible.  Dunno where, but I know where we can stay in the meantime, away from the gang.  We start to live like normal folk-”

Abigail laughed lightly.  “Normal folk? Us?”

“Maybe.  I dunno, Abigail.”

“In all seriousness… I’m all for it.  Go find John. I’ll start packin’ our things.”

Arthur stood.  “I ain’t even talked with Dutch yet.  Take your time.” He headed out the room and down the rotting stairs, silently excited he wouldn’t have to be staying in the dump of a house anymore.  Charles had already left in the morning just as dawn broke, claiming he would be gone for a few weeks or more. Arthur had warned him when he comes back things may be different.  

Pearson waddled over from his wagon with a heavy bowl of soup.  He set it over the fire and let out a breath, then proceeded to stir the food.  Arthur had given some spices to Ms. Grimshaw which she always tried to sneak into the pot, and she always succeeded without Pearson noticing.  

Two men caught Arthur’s eye.  Dirty, greasy men with unsettling gazes and crooked faces only a mother could love.  They sat by Micah’s tent smoking and in the middle of a crude joke. One of them burst out laughing.  

“I see you’ve met Cleet and Joe,” Hosea said, coming up to Arthur.  He held several books in his hands. “Micah’s recommendations, I fear.”

Arthur sat down at the table, his eyes still on the men.  He didn’t like the look of them, not one bit. He had almost forgotten about them. 

Tilly came from the marsh, a basket of wet laundry in her arms.  One of the men, Arthur didn’t know which, kept a stern gaze on Tilly as she passed them and set the basket down at her tent.  She proceeded to leave and venture somewhere out of sight behind the house.

“Arthur!” Dutch called and motioned for him to come over.  “Hosea, Micah and I have been discussing the next course of action, and I want you in on this.”

“Much to my dismay,” Micah sneered.  

Arthur shared a look with Hosea, then made his way over to the two along with him.  “Dutch, I been meanin’ to talk to you-”

“Last night was tough.  I know that. But we must be better than them,” Dutch affirmed. He put a hand on Arthur’s shoulder and squeezed, then let go.  “We will not get anywhere if we do not take action, Arthur. All we need is one more take, and we have it.”

“Let’s go inside,” Hosea suggested.  “We can look at some maps, show you what we’re thinking.”

“I ain’t-” Arthur looked back to the two new members of the gang and noticed one missing.  “Where’s Cleet?”

“That’s Cleet,” Dutch said.  He pointed to the one still by Micah’s tent.

“Then where’s Joe?”

Micah spit to the grass.  “What does it matter?”

“Excuse me,” Arthur murmured and walked towards the back of the house.  Flies danced around and there was a stench to the air as usual. There were several broken down sheds in the back, slowly sinking into the marsh.  Tilly and Joe were nowhere to be seen. Arthur noticed the other men had retreated inside, leaving Arthur to wander around by himself. 

He passed by the broken down shed and listened.  The door was always jammed, he knew that much. John and Jack had tried to get in before and hadn’t been able to.  He was about to turn away when he heard muffled speech.  

With a sinking heart he pushed on the wooden door which opened effortlessly and came to a dead stop.  Joe stood over Tilly, pinning her against the wall. Tilly looked over, her eyes pleading for help. Before Arthur knew what he was doing, he had grabbed Joe and tossed him to the ground.  He grabbed the man by the shirt and held tight as he brought his fist against the man’s nose again and again. All he saw was red and felt a fury he hadn’t harnessed in a very long time.

Several hands pulled him away and held him back as he struggled.  It was only until he saw Sadie’s brown eyes in front of his that he calmed down, her mouth moving with words he couldn’t hear.  It was like everything was rushing around him and he couldn’t stop it.  

“He tried to kill me!” Joe shouted through broken nose and teeth.  Cleet and Micah helped him stand up.  

“He was protecting me!” Tilly shouted back, her face furious.  

“Did I harm you?” Joe taunted.  He spat out a wad of blood and a tooth.  “I ain’t so much as put a hand on ya.”

Arthur came to suddenly, finally comprehending where he was.  He sat on a small stump, his whole body shaking. Sadie rubbed his back.  “Arthur, can you hear me?” she was saying.

“Yeah.  Yeah.” He shook his head and ignored his bloody hand as he stood. “You were assaultin’ Tilly,” he accused the greasy man.  

“I ain’t done nothin’!” Joe was led to the house by Micah and Cleet while kept repeating his defense.  “I ain’t done nothin’!”

Dutch had come over, along with Hosea, grimaces on their faces.  Ms. Grimshaw had her arm wrapped around Tilly and was saying soothing words to her. 

“Is this true, Miss Tilly?” Dutch asked, his voice oddly cold.  He kept his fists by his side, but Arthur could see he was upset.  “Did he hurt you?”

“He-” Tilly gulped.  She wrapped her arms around herself tightly.  Ms. Grimshaw continued to rub her back for support.  “He approached me, for sure. I was curious about the shed, and well, I managed to get it open.  And then Joe was there and came in with me, and if Arthur hadn’t come in-”

“Did he hurt you?” Dutch repeated.

“N-no.  He had me cornered and said these disturbin’ things to me-”

Dutch was nodding. “As long as you are okay.  I’ll go have a talk with him and make sure it won’t happen again.”

“What?” Arthur said, taken aback.  “He ain’t a good guy. If I hadn’t been there-”

“If you hadn’t been there, he would have walked away without a broken nose,” Dutch reasoned. 

Arthur held fast.  “He needs to go. He ain’t safe around Tilly.”

“We  _ need _ the extra men.”

“You have them.”

“Oh?  Do I?” Dutch thundered.  He broke his composure and pointed a finger at Arthur, fury clean on his face.  “Oh! This is just silly. I hear you talking of leaving us, Arthur?  Ever since the Mrs. Adler come along, you ain’t been yourself!”

“I ain’t the one who changed him!” Sadie retorted.  She flipped her golden hair over her shoulder as she regarded Dutch. “You should take one good look in the goddamn mirror!”

Arthur held out a hand to Sadie to stop her from continuing.  As much as he wanted her to handle this, this was his battle and it was now or never to sort things out with Dutch.  “I don’t think it’s me who changed, Dutch. You been leadin’ this gang down a path I don’t agree with no more.”

“We are not like law.  This! Is who we are, Arthur!  Outlaws!” Dutch waved his arms around.  “The world may be changing, but we are still true to ourselves!  We must stay strong and  _ survive _ , Arthur.  And nobody can stand in our way.”  Dutch now stood inches away from Arthur, his shoulders back and his face red with anger.  

Arthur didn’t break eye contact.  “You did not raise us on the blood of innocent men.”

“They have not been so  _ innocent _ as of late.”

“No?  Well, sure.  But killing people in cold blood?  For sport? For money? We used to be good about helping others.  And now we only help ourselves.”  

“I am trying to save us.  One more take, Arthur, and we can leave this place.”

Arthur snorted.  “Tahiti? This is our home, Dutch.  I ain’t gonna ruin what’s left of it for me or for Sadie.  I am leavin’, of my own means.” He took a step back and looked at Tilly.  “I want you safe, Tilly. What do you want to do?”

Tilly started sobbing and grabbed Ms. Grimshaw’s hands.  “You done so much for me. But I think… I think it’s time for me to move on, get on my own two feet.  It’s changin’ too much, too fast. I’m scared for my life. All us girls are. I don’t see my future here.”

Ms. Grimshaw didn’t look surprised. Her wrinkled face merely frowned. “I suspected as much.  You got a job, then? A place to go?”

Tilly sniffed and rubbed her face.  “I… I think so. It ain’t much, but it’s in St. Denis.  I could start new.”

Dutch had turned a sickly white as he took this in.  Arthur could tell it was difficult for the older man, as Dutch had been there for the two of them ever since they were younger. Hosea came up to stand by Dutch; he gave a nod of support to Arthur.  Hosea had always talked of Arthur using his head, getting out - and it was finally happening.  

More of the other men gathered around the group.  Lenny stepped forward and took off his hat. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to escort you to St. Denis, Miss Tilly.”  

“I’d like that.”

“This is horseshit!” Micah yelled from the house.  He stomped his way over and wagged a finger at Arthur.  “You betrayin’ bastard! You leave us high and dry and abandon your gang like that?”  

“Why’d you wanna leave?” Bill joined in with a small comment. 

“And John too?  I heard Abigail talkin’ about it!” Micah said.

“You can’t just leave us!” 

“ENOUGH!” Dutch shouted and instantly everyone hushed.  “This… this is what we’ve become.” His shoulders drooped and for the first time, Arthur could see how tired the man was.  He noticed the wrinkles on his face, the greying of his beard. “This is how I get repaid.”

“No, Dutch,” Arthur sighed.  He took Sadie’s hand in his for support.  “I gave you twenty years of my life. I gave Eliza up, for  _ you _ .  My son Isaac, for  _ you _ .  You’ll always have my loyalty, Dutch.  But I’m done.”  

“And what about you, John?” Dutch asked the scarred man who was hanging outside the group.

“I-”

A bullet whizzed past Arthur’s ear and sunk into the grass past Dutch.  Arthur jumped forward and knocked Dutch down, covering his body with his. He then yanked Dutch up and pulled him towards the house. Bullets hit the shed and grass around them; the group scattered in all different directions.  

“Inside!” Arthur roared.  “Get inside!” Dutch had regained his composure and ran to the house, holding the door open for everyone.  Arthur took position inside against a window as he popped in bullets to his rifle. He broke the remaining glass with the butt of his rifle and shot off a few hits at several hooded men.  They were pouring in from the marshes and the trees.

“O’Driscolls!” Bill shouted from the other side of the room.  

“Where’s Jack?” Abigail was shouting as she ran around the house, stumbling over the furniture searching for him.  “Where is he?”

A high pitched scream from the front of the house answered her.  She and John took off to the front door. John grabbed her by the shirt and yanked her back to stop her from going outside.  “I’ll get him!” He shouted and pushed her towards the couch. “Get behind cover! Arthur, Sadie, cover me!”

Javier took over Arthur’s position as the two of them went over to John.  He had already busted out the front door, unloading his gun as he went to Jack. Arthur spotted the boy hiding behind the tall stone fence at the front of the property.  Karen stood by him as she held Jack behind her, her gun pointed and ready to shoot. Hooded O’Driscolls were close behind and approaching fast. The instant they would round the corner, they would have the two of them.

Jack was wailing as John ran to him, dodging from cover to cover, their camp getting torn to shreds. As bullets hit the ground, a dusty cloud settled over the area.  Arthur and Sadie picked off any O’Driscoll who showed their heads, their blood turning the road crimson.

John made it to his son and Karen.  He picked up Jack as he and Karen ran back to the house, depending on Arthur and Sadie to defend them.  Once they were through the front doors, Arthur grabbed hold of a large bookcase and shoved it down in front.  It nearly broke in half as it hit the ground.  

“This ain’t lookin’ good,” Sadie said, peering out from her hiding spot by the window.  “They on every side, Arthur.”

“We just gotta keep shootin’.  We have the better cover than they do; we can do this,” Arthur huffed back.  “I’m gonna sneak out the side door. Stay here with John.”

“Nah, Karen!  Take over here,” Sadie said. 

“Got it,” Karen said, her cheeks flushed from exertion.  Karen always liked her drink and ended up drunk - Arthur hoped she hadn’t had any that morning so her aim would stay true.

He and Sadie rushed out the side door to find several O’Driscolls hopping off a boat, rifles at the ready.  The two of them picked off the O’Driscolls one by one, sending them to an early grave. The gang hadn’t changed.  These O’Driscolls were fresh recruits with no talent for aim. Numbers did not help when such sharpshooters such as Arthur and Sadie were against them.  

After what seemed like ages, the dust settled and everyone was able to take a deep breath.  The last of the O’Driscolls retreated as they realized they were outmatched. 

Everyone met at the front of the house, taking account for injuries and making sure each other was okay.  Arthur took a seat on a stair and coughed into his bloodied hands. His heart was racing and he was covered in grime and sweat; his lungs didn’t like it.  Once his throat was clear, he took a moment to hold Sadie against him as they recuperated. He kissed her on the forehead. “We okay,” he said. He could feel the tension leave her shoulders.

Jack sobbed as he was handed off to Abigail.  She tried to soothe him as she sat down on the porch.  

“We all survived,” Dutch huffed.  In the fight, his shirt had become untucked and there was a sheen of sweat on his skin.  He stepped up to the top of the porch and looked down at the group. “They will not bring us down.  Together, I know we can make it to paradise. It’s the only answer we have - the only way to move forward.  Gentlemen-”

“No,” John cut in.  “This is it, Dutch. Jack nearly died.  Karen nearly died. You almost got shot, had it not been for Arthur.”

“That is why we must stick together.”

“It ain’t that easy.  We got lucky just this once.  But our luck ain’t with us no more,” John said.  “We tired of runnin’, Dutch. Things go wrong and keep goin’ wrong.  No. I have to keep Jack safe. Arthur is right. I’m done.”

“Who else?” Dutch asked the group.  The others - Hosea, Javier, Uncle, Bill, Micah, Pearson, Strauss, Swanson, Ms. Grimshaw, and Karen kept silent.  With one last look at the group, Dutch went into the house without another word. Dutch still had a full gang but was losing his two proteges - which was hard for everyone.  

“This means more for us, anyhow,” Micah said, running a hand under his nose.  “It was too many mouths to feed from the get go.”

“Yet you brought two more men in,” Ms. Grimshaw reminded him. “You’re just as sick of these O’Driscoll’s, Micah.”  She turned to Arthur, bearing not a trace of anger. “I have one favor of you lot before you take off. I need this mess cleaned up.”

Arthur agreed to do so.  The next few hours were spent grabbing the bodies and tossing them in the lake for the alligators, brushing away the blood and setting everything back in place. The camp was the quietest Arthur had ever heard it. Sadie retreated to begin packing their horses, while Abigail started packing a wagon.

Pearson handed out soup to everyone, his face downcast.  His wagon had retained a lot of damage that could easily be fixed.  Arthur knew the bigger man was going to miss fixing the food for the entire gang, yet he wasn’t going to say anything. 

Bill and Javier kept to themselves, forever loyal to Dutch.  They hadn’t anyone but the gang, Arthur knew. He didn’t blame them for staying.  Same for Ms. Grimshaw - she was loyal until the end.  

Lenny and Tilly were the first to depart.  Arthur knew he would see the two of them again and made plans to go visit St. Denis in the close future.   Dutch stayed in his room while everyone said their goodbyes

“Good for you,” Hosea was saying to Lenny.  “Make a name for yourself, son. Don’t look back.”

With a final handshake and a hug from Tilly, the two left down the road toward St. Denis.  It was a relief for Arthur and a weight off his shoulders. Those two would not become victims to Dutch’s agenda.  

It was almost dark by the time Arthur and John were ready to leave.  The setting sun cast a red and orange coat over the camp. Arthur would have enjoyed the beautiful sunset, with the rays coming through the trees, had he not felt like he was betraying Dutch.  It was taking every ounce of his will to leave.

Karen sat by the campfire nearby, sobbing to herself and drinking whiskey. Sadie sat by her, a grimace on her face.  “Karen, you can come with us,” she said tenderly. “We’ll take care of ya.”

“No,” Karen blubbered and took a swig of her whiskey.  “Just leave, already. Like Mary-Beth, Tilly. They got out, they had plans.  This ain’t gonna end well for me.”  

“We could help you-”

“Leave me alone,” Karen hiccuped and sauntered towards the house.  “This is all goin’ to hell.”

Sadie looked at Arthur.  “I don’t know what to do with her,” she said.  “She ain’t gonna change overnight.”

Arthur had been smoking a cigarette, watching the two talk.  He chucked the remainder into the fire. “I don’t have an answer, Sadie.  Ms. Grimshaw will see her through.”

“Karen  _ hates _ her.”  She huffed.  “But fine. I hate leavin’ her.”

“I ain’t gonna drag her along if she don’t wanna.”  Arthur did feel terrible about Karen. He had basically pressured both her friends to leave her behind and move on.  

Abigail and John waved at him from their wagon.  “They must be ready to go. Let’s say our goodbyes, Sadie.”  

Sadie walked up to him and stopped him with a light touch on his arm. “Are you ready for this?”

Arthur took one last look around camp.  Pearson stirring his stew. Javier mindlessly plucking at random chords on his guitar.  Bill staring into his drink, a glare on his face. Ms. Grimshaw forever moving around and cleaning the place up.  Uncle being quiet for once. Hosea saying his goodbyes to Jack, clearly trying to hold back tears.  

“I’ll never be ready, Sadie.  Let’s go.”


	16. Chapter 16

_ \--Three Months Later, Present Day-- _

Arthur sat on a large, mossy covered rock and let his feet dangle over the edge into the crisp cold water.  It had recently rained, leaving everything soaked and smelling fresh. His fishing pole lay to the side, unused.  It was refreshing for him to sit there and relax - plenty was on his mind lately and he needed an escape. He had gotten up before dawn and made his way to the nearby pond with his fishing pole.

A lot had happened since he and the others had left the gang.  It had taken them a few days to reach Charlotte’s. John and Abigail made camp not too far away as to not to intrude, and Arthur had left with Charlotte and Sadie to talk with a bank in St. Denis.  He had shaved, trimmed his hair, pomaded it back, and dressed in his finest clothing so he could make an impression.  

He knew Dutch had been planning to rob the bank, but there had been no word or stories about it.  He chose not to ask, either. The banker they had talked to was more than willing to give out a loan for Arthur to buy the land, as the banker had been close to Cal and Charlotte.

It had been the first time Arthur had stepped into a bank without the intention of robbing it.  It had crossed his mind, sure, and before he could stop himself, he had thought of ways they could actually rob it.  Arthur had never been the brains of the operation, but he knew how it worked. 

With the money Charlotte had set aside for him, Arthur had been able to purchase the land outright and use a small loan to buy lumber to build a home.  It had taken a few weeks to arrive to the land - which was a few miles north of where Charlotte lived. A set of five acres belonging to Arthur and  _ only  _ Arthur.

Granted, it was in the woods, wild and barely touched.  

_ \--Two Months Earlier-- _

He and Sadie traveled to the place, following a rocky road until a small, overgrown path diverged from the main road.  Arthur looked over the old map he had been given and confirmed the path did lead into the land. Tall trees and bushes had taken over the old path, nearly hiding it from view. 

“I guess this is it,” Arthur said and had his horse move down the path.  Sadie followed him closely. “They said there’s a house next to a pond somewhere, I was told.”

“It is a pretty area,” Sadie remarked as they passed the trees.  Summer was only halfway done, meaning the trees were still full and green.  The path had once been well loved as there were rocks aligned in a perfect path.  Weeds had taken over it and then some.

The path went up the mountainside and they came across a dark, circular pond, only just connected to a nearby flowing creek and eventually after half a mile, a lake.  There, about thirty feet away on a hill sat a forgotten house, surrounded by overgrown trees. Half the house had fallen in on itself, covered in moss and dirt and animal droppings. 

Still, when the house had first been built, Arthur would have thought it to be beautiful.  It was a larger house, easily hosting three bedrooms and living space.  

He stepped off his horse and climbed over the broken down walls of the house.  “This is gonna be a lot of work,” he muttered, kicking aside a piece of wood. “I ain’t ever built a house before.”

“I did, with Jake,” Sadie said hesitantly.  “It ain’t easy. We’ll have more hands - it should go quicker.  At least there’s a foundation here already.” She wandered over to the other side of the house.  “And you got land for livestock, too.”

Arthur mentally calculated his savings.  He hadn’t had to pay out of pocket for the land.  He had just over a thousand - just enough to buy the basic furnishings and maybe some livestock.  Then there was the issue of having a house built for John and Abigail, too. They were undecided if they wanted to build a house here or buy their own land.  For now, they would just set up camp on Arthur’s land.

“Hey,” Sadie called to him and motioned him over.  He complied and she took his arm, leading him down to the pond.  Frogs croaked nearby and a fox scurried away as they stopped by the water.  “I been thinkin’.”

“Of what?”

“When we passed through Annesburg… there was this.”  Sadie reached into her jacket and pulled out a wrinkled paper.  

He already knew what it was without having to open it.  “A wanted poster?”

“You done it before.  Bounty hunted. It’s perfectly legal.  This person is seventy-five bucks alone.”  She opened the poster to reveal a crude drawing of a Mark Johnson, wanted alive.

“I ain’t…” Arthur pondered on it.  It  _ was _ legal.  And he and Sadie could easily do it.  Yet he was trying to get out of that life.  Yet he  _ did _ have a bank loan to pay back and he had not a clue how.

He had been waiting Sadie to say something of this manner.  Her nightmares at night had begun to return and she’d wake up distant, not wanting to talk to him.  She had hesitated opening up to him and he hadn’t wanted to pressure her. She was getting restless, that’s all he knew.

“Is this too much for you?” he asked her.  “This land, livin’ with me.”

Sadie folded up the poster and put it back in her pocket, avoiding his gaze.  “We ain’t seen hide or hair of the O’Driscolls since that attack on the gang. I want them gone, Arthur.  I just… I ain’t feelin’ like myself. I can’t think straight. I wanna shoot somethin’ daily.” She walked away from him and picked up some tiny rocks which she threw into the water. 

“We got time until the lumber arrives.  We could do this, this bounty huntin’. For a time.  And keep our ears open for O’Driscolls. I said I’ll support you.  But I don’t know if this is the best answer for us, in the long run.”

“Don’t get me wrong.”  Sadie tossed the last rock into the water, which skipped twice before sinking.  “I wanna be here with you. But I keep seeing his face, Arthur. I keep seeing it.”  Her voice turned desperate and her gaze went far away. “I don’t know how to make it stop-”

“Shh,” Arthur calmed her, holding her to him.  “I’m here for you, Sadie, my girl.” He rested his head on top of hers and felt her shoulders shake.  

“I think I’m scared,” she silently sobbed into his shoulder.  “I’m doin’ the same thing with you I did with my Jakie - started a life. I keep thinkin’  _ what if _ ?  We got land.  Each other. And then I try to think of somethin’ good, only to see that O’Driscoll take everythin’ away from me.  And what if it all gets taken away again? We was happy, Arthur.”

“We won’t let that happen again,” Arthur said firmly and kissed her head.  He held her close. “We just gotta stay true, Sadie. We have each other, we have John and Abigail and Charlotte.  We will be happy. Trust me.”

“I do!” Sadie looked up to him.  “I know we will be. I just gotta keep myself movin’, else I’ll go crazy.”

“We’ll get Mark Johnson, believe me.  We’ll keep movin’ along.” A horse neighed down the path alerting them someone was near.  “That must be John and Abigail.”  

John and Abigail pulled up in a wagon and Jack nearly bounced off in excitement.  “Is this your new place, Uncle Arthur?” the kid asked.

“Well, this ain’t.  We gotta build a new house first,” Arthur grinned at him.  He helped the boy down to the ground, then helped Abigail step off.  “Welcome to my home.”

“This is so exciting,” Abigail gleamed, her eyes sparkling.  She was dressed in a simple skirt and shirt, with a bright shawl wrapped around her shoulders.  “It’s a wonderful place, Arthur. You got a name for it yet?”

“A name?” Arthur looked at Sadie.  “Guess not. I’ll think on it.”

John was silent as he began to unload his wagon.  Arthur went along to help while the two women started discussing garden possibilities.  Abigail was more vocal about an idea she had for the place and what they could grow, while Sadie went along and put in her thoughts here and there.

“You okay?” Arthur asked John, noticing he seemed to be in a sour mood.

“It’s a lot to take in, Arthur,” John said.  He grabbed a hammer and nails meant for building his tent.  “I ain’t used to this life.”

“We’ll stay busy, that’s for sure.  There’s a lot of work that needs done.”

“I ain’t gonna be much good at it.”

“I ain’t either, but what else we gonna do, John?”

John lightly chuckled.  “I’m just followin’ your lead.  I’m out of my expertise. Let’s get ourselves set up, else Abigail will have my hide.”

* * *

Arthur and Sadie left the next morning to head towards Siltwater Strand where Mark Johnson was possibly hiding.  They would return home in a couple days. The lumber would be arriving by then and Arthur wanted to be there for it.  John and Abigail had stayed behind, much to John’s chagrin - Abigail hated the thought of John going bounty hunting. Arthur didn’t blame her. 

It was a morning Arthur didn’t feel very well. His limbs felt weak and his heart was beating awfully fast, yet he still left, not wanting to disappoint Sadie.  He hadn’t been able to shake the cough ever since he was wounded by the O’Driscolls. It was turning into habit to ignore it and move on. That morning it was hard to get off his mind.

Something was wrong with him.  Maybe he was getting a fever? He had been constantly on the move and unable to take a break.  It wouldn’t happen for months to come. Maybe once his house was built he could begin to relax. 

He hoped Sadie didn’t notice.  

They found Mark Johnson’s camp that night.  Arthur had been quiet over the trip as he tried to stay focused on the road, but he wasn’t doing too well.  He could feel his hands begin to shake and he struggled to hold back fits of coughing.  

The moon was hidden by thick clouds threatening to downpour.  One small light identified Johnson’s wagon through a hidden spot in the trees.  Not much could be heard except for the crickets and coyotes. Arthur and Sadie got off their horses and readied their guns for a fight.  

A middle aged, skinny woman walked around the edge of the wagon, humming to herself.  She held dirty plates in her hand and proceeded to scrape the scraps off at the edge of camp.  She happened to look to the edge where Arthur and Sadie were standing and caught sight of them and screamed, dropping the plates. 

A young boy ran up to his mother and started dragging her away while an older man - Mark Johnson, Arthur guessed - came out with his hands up.  Arthur’s reaction to draw his gun was slow, but Sadie was on top of it, yelling at the man to surrender.  

“I will, just, let me say goodbye to my son and wife, okay?” The man pleaded, no sense of contempt in his voice. 

Sadie glowered at him.  “Fine. Make it quick.”

“No, you can’t,” his wife cried.  “We thought you was free.”

“Pa…” his son said, disbelief in his voice.  “You can’t go.”

“I knew my life would catch up to me eventually.  We all did,” Mark Johnson said with remorse. He gathered his family in a hug, then pulled away.  He walked up to Sadie, his arms up. “I am a changed man. I been with my family now, tryin’ to make things right.”

Arthur couldn’t help but ask, “What’d you do?”

“I’m a thief,” Johnson admitted.  “I robbed trains, stagecoaches. You can see why I’m a wanted man.”

Arthur could see it for sure.  But he also looked at the wife and son and saw the love in their eyes, the passion they shared for their husband and father.  Bounty hunting was leaving a sour feeling in his stomach - it was like Arthur was arresting himself or any other part of his gang.  A simple thief who would most likely be hanged.

Something Arthur was destined for if he wasn’t careful.  

Arthur lowered his gun and put it back in its holster.  “Is he a good father?” he asked the kid.

“He’s the best,” the boy responded.  “He been good the last few years. Honest.”  His mother nodded in agreement.

Sadie wouldn’t like this.  “Get out of here, then.”

“Arthur!  What are ya doin’?” Sadie exclaimed, shocked.  “We got ‘im!”

“Get out of here. You have an hour,” Arthur said again.  He headed toward his horse and got on. “Come on, Sadie. It ain’t meant to be.”

Johnson began gathering his things along with his family.  “Thank you,” he said as he gathered up a few boxes. His family rushed to gather their belongings.  “We’re gone. You won’t hear of us again.”

“I hope not.  Giddy-up, Roy.”  Arthur let Roy break into a trot, leading him away from the camp.  Sadie let out an annoyed side and followed him soon after.  

They didn’t speak for awhile, merely following the road back up to Roanoke Ridge. There was the spot nearby where Arthur and Sadie had killed the wolves that had attacked them; he figured they would make camp there.  

He could tell Sadie was angry with him.  She had wanted this - some action to help settle herself.  As they reached the camp and started building a fireplace and setting their rolls out, she was giving him the silent treatment. 

“Sadie,” he murmured as she brushed past him, sticks and kindling in her arms.  He stopped her by putting a hand on her arm. He took a deep breath and blinked his eyes.  He was starting to see double of her. “It was like seein’ myself. I couldn’t arrest that man.”

Sadie’s eyebrows softened.  “He was a wanted man, Arthur-”

“So am I.  Maybe not here, but…” Arthur took a step away and leaned a hand against the stone wall. His vision was dancing and he was having trouble telling which way was up. “What if down the road men come lookin’ for me?”

“Arthur-” 

“It ain’t fair to him - it ain’t fair,” Arthur heaved and felt his knees buckle, everything going black.

He woke up shivering, both blankets covering him.  Sadie lay next to him and sat up. She picked up a cloth and wiped Arthur’s brow.  It was cool to the touch. “You have a fever,” she said, her voice full of worry. “You could have told me you wasn’t feelin’ good.”

“I wanted to help you,” Arthur murmured.  “You needed it.”

“I need you more.”  Sadie tucked in the blankets around him.  “I’m fixin’ some soup. We’ll stay here until you fit to travel, you hear?”

“Yes, ma’am…” Arthur drifted back into a fevered sleep.  The nightmares he had pushed away and ignored for so long were back in full force.  Faces of the O’Driscolls, Colm, Dutch appearing all around him. Micah laughing in the background.  Each had a knife, chasing after Arthur, but he couldn’t run from them. They caught up to him and pushed him to the ground, pinning him, stabbing him over and over -

He woke with a start, sweat pouring down his forehead.  The rain had started sometime during the night, now sprinkling as the sun peeped through the trees.  A tiny drop of water continuously dropped into a tiny puddle. Sadie lay next to him, having not woken up with him.

Eyes were staring at him.  He turned and caught sight of a large buck, the antlers tall and majestic, the sun casting rays around it.  The buck was staring at him, contemplating if Arthur was dangerous. It twitched an ear and walked away slowly, disappearing from view.

Arthur sat up slowly and pushed the blankets aside.  He felt much better and he could breathe a bit better than the day before.  His vision was also back to normal. He would love nothing more than to get clean at that moment.  The grime from days of travel coated him and he could smell his own stench, which wasn’t a good sign. 

There was a small river nearby.  Sadie seemed to need the sleep, so he didn’t bother to wake her.  He went through his satchel and found a box of soap, then left to go find the river.  It was hidden well through the trees, though he could hear it the closer he got. The water nestled down a tiny ravine, waist deep a certain parts. Several bunnies scattered around him as he headed down. 

There was plenty of cover to bathe.  Once he was unclothed and waist deep in water, he let his mind wander as he scrubbed the dirt from his skin.  His back was turned to his camp and he was so lost in thought that he didn’t realize when Sadie got in the pool with him.  She wrapped her arms around him.

“You better?” she asked against his back.

“Yes.  Much better,” Arthur said and turned around to face her.  She had chucked her clothes to the side. He let his eyes trail over the freckles on her shoulders, to her breasts just peeking out of the blanket of her hair.  

“I understand why you stopped me,” she murmured.  “You ain’t gonna be on the run like that, Arthur. We are settin’ ourselves up straight.  You a good person and I hope you see that.”

“The law don’t work like that.  Look at Mark Johnson. He tried to fix himself - he still on the run.”

“Well, the law should.”

Arthur leaned down and lightly kissed her.  “It should,” he said in a hushed tone once he pulled away.  He kissed her again more urgently, letting his tongue part her mouth, taking all of her in.   At her response - she pulled him closer to her, a hand squeezing one of his butt cheeks. He broke away and led her to the side of the creek where it was covered in grass and a bit of mud.  

“Water too cold for you?” Sadie teased.

“I should think that was obvious.” 

He took her in his arms and together they lay in the grass, sharing soft, tender kisses.  He went slow, kissing her on her mouth, her neck, her shoulder. She caressed his body with anticipation and ran her hands through his hair, gasping as his fingers found her slit.  He let his hand do the work while he nibbled on her neck. He bent to lick her breast and felt the nipple perk up to his tongue.  

Her breath heightened as he stroked her clit, her body curving towards him as she let the pleasure take over her.  Arthur stopped and pushed her leg aside. His member was hard and ready; he pushed into her folds, gasping lightly as it took hold of him.  

He began to thrust slowly and leaned down to kiss Sadie on the neck as she dug her nails into his back.  Her nails dug deep, but he barely noticed it as he thrust deep and hard.  

“Harder,” Sadie whispered in his ear.  “Oh, god… Arthur.”

He was happy to oblige.  He leaned back from her and moved his hips back and forth, drawing the length of him in and out with as much strength he could muster.  The sun warmed his back as he took her, her golden locks radiating in the shine of the sun. Her face was flushed and she was biting her lip.  One hand was grasping a pile of grass while the other dug into his shoulder.

Arthur grunted and quickened the pace, feeling the release building up.  “Oh, fuck,” he cursed as he couldn’t hold off anymore. He felt himself cum and began slowing down, his shoulders shaking from the feeling. 

He collapsed on the grass by Sadie and tried to regain his composure.  He gave Sadie a couple kisses on the cheek before he rested his head. He must have dozed off, because the next thing he knew he was being woken up by Sadie.

“You silly man,” Sadie smirked at him.  “You’re gonna have to bathe again.” She leaned over and grabbed a blade of grass from his hair.  

He was sure he was covered in mud - it was cool and wet against his back.  With a contented sigh, he sat up and waded into the water with Sadie. He pulled her to him and planted a kiss on her forehead.

“Thanks for takin’ care of me.  I know some things ain’t goin’ the way you want, but I promise, I’ll take care of ya just as much.”

“Oh, Arthur.  You been more than enough for me.  We almost there - we just got to be patient, that’s all.  And I’m remindin’ myself of that, too.”

_ \--Present Day-- _

Arthur brought out his sketchbook and started sketching his newly built house while he dangled his feet in the pond.  Two months after getting the lumber and a lot of hard work later, the house was built and ready to live in. He coughed lightly into his hands and kept sketching, capturing the tilt of the roof.

The house wasn’t perfect.  The lumber was sturdy and expertly cut making it easy to work with, though there were some points when Arthur hadn’t known what the hell he was doing.  There were nails out of place and loose floorboards and one of the doors was crooked, but yet it was  _ his _ .  There were three rooms with one large family room, plenty of space for the five of them.  It was mostly bare with their bedrolls and makeshift cots. They didn’t even own a table, but Arthur was in the middle of making one.  It was crude but he figured it would last them for awhile.

Sadie had put aside her vendetta so they could focus on building the house.  Arthur was forever grateful to the help she had given him; she had dedicated herself to seeing this through.  Abigail and Charlotte helped build a garden plot and planted various vegetables which would save money in the long run.  

The next part would be to build fences so they could keep livestock.  Chickens would be a start, though also an easy target to coyotes so Arthur would have to build a small pen house to keep them in.  One small step led to a hundred steps.

Everything was owed to Charlotte, though.  Arthur had yet to figure out a way to repay her kindness.  He supposed Charlotte was grateful for the company - Cal was missed something fierce.  It had been awhile since he had met someone as nice and honest as them. It was how Arthur would raise a kid, if he had one. 

The thought made him pause his sketching. He and Sadie hadn’t talked of kids ever since that one time.  They hadn’t been bothering to play it safe, either. Yet maybe Sadie was right. Maybe it wasn’t possible.  

He put the thought away and continued his drawing.  Last night had been the first night everyone had slept in their own rooms.  It was a night Arthur had discovered just how thin the walls really were, as well.  John and Abigail hadn’t held back. It had been enough to make even Arthur blush. Then again, Arthur hadn’t bothered to hold back with Sadie.  He had seen the small bruises on her neck he had accidentally given her, the rush of excitement and love for each other more clear that night. He mentally chided himself to control himself better next time.  Everything about Sadie was hard to resist. 

A horse neighed down the path and he saw Charlotte riding up on her newly bought horse.  Arthur and John had spent days cutting through bushes and branches to make the path easier to pass through.  One could now see someone arriving from down the hill clearly. 

Charlotte hopped off her horse and walked over to him.  She held out a letter. “Letter for a Tacitus Kilgore.” She flipped her dark hair back and sat next to him on a smaller rock, keeping her boots away from the water.  She was dressed in pants and a white shirt with a long jacket - she had taken to Sadie’s way of dressing when she traveled.

“Good morning,” Arthur greeted, taking the letter from her.  They had agreed to pick up each other’s mail if they happened to be in Annesburg.  

He ripped through the seal and scanned over it quickly, finding it was from Charles.  From the sound of it, everything about the Wapiti Reservation was heartbreaking. They had been forcibly relocated and Charles had done what he could.  It was out of his hands now. The chief of the Wapiti had managed to control his hot headed son, but that was only for now.  

Charles wanted to meet up with Arthur.  Arthur could sure use his help around the place - and then he froze once he read the last paragraph.

_ “Colm O’Driscoll is said to be hung in St. Denis at the end of September,” _ Charles wrote.   _ “I will be waiting in St. Denis.  I seen Dutch, Micah. They recruited more men.  Hosea isn’t looking too well. I know they plan to watch the hanging.  Let the Mrs. Adler know. Charles.” _

“I take it isn’t good news,” Charlotte remarked. 

“No, it is.  Just… gotta make a sudden trip into St. Denis,” Arthur said, letting out a long sigh.  He scratched his beard as he pondered it. He hadn’t tried to think of the old gang or seeing them anytime soon. He shut his journal and stood up.  “You’re welcome to breakfast, Charlotte. Abigail planned on makin’ a large one.”

“I best go help her,” Charlotte chimed, standing up with him.  “Lord knows that woman can’t cook, bless her heart.”

Arthur laughed with her.  She wasn’t wrong.  

“It looks wonderful,” Charlotte said as they walked up to the front door.  The house was only one story, but was spacious and had a smell of fresh wood and paint about.  “You boys really know how to build a place quick.”

Arthur pushed open the front door.  “After you. Don’t look too hard, though.  You’ll see all the mistakes.”

Charlotte took a glance around the room and frowned.  A few boxes and stumps served as chairs, along with miscellaneous junk was spread around the room.  “Next we gotta get you a stove, for one.”

“I figure I’ll pick one up when I’m in St. Denis, maybe.”

Abigail cracked her bedroom door open and wandered out, dressed in a simple blue dress for the day.  Her black hair was actually pulled to the side in a ponytail, which she had over her shoulder. Her face lit up once she saw Charlotte.  “You’re here.”

“Heard you were making breakfast.  What can I do to help?”

Arthur left the two to find Sadie, who was in the middle of getting dressed.  The room was a mess with their trunks and their bedrolls. She stood with only her shirt on, in the middle of buttoning it up.  Her hair was in disarray, a tangled mess of golden locks. She smiled when she saw him. “You was up early,” she commented.

“Felt like drawin’,” Arthur said.  He handed out the letter for her to see.  “You need to read this.”

She took it from him with a curious look and took her time reading it.  He watched her smile turn sullen. “This true?” she asked, her voice taut.

“It’s Charles.  I’d believe him over anybody.”

“We gonna go?”

“We’ll leave within the week.”

 


	17. Chapter 17

St. Denis was abuzz with talk of the hanging of Colm O’Driscoll.  Arthur had overheard some random people talk about it over cards once he and Sadie checked into their hotel.  It wasn’t often a notorious gang leader was captured. The agreement Colm had with the Pinkertons must have fell through, after they failed to deliver the van der Linde gang.  Arthur escaping them hadn’t helped Colm’s standing, either.

Arthur wanted to keep a low profile by  _ not _ looking like a rugged outlaw.  He dressed in crisp white pants, white shirt, with a black and white vest.  It was the richest and well made clothing he owned. He even wore a black and white cravat with a button.  He had set aside his father’s hat to wear a large brimmed hat, which was dark grey in color. Lastly, he wore the white pelt of the wolf he had killed with Sadie over his shoulders.  

Charlotte and Sadie had both advised him on what to wear, as a rugged outlaw cowboy might draw attention to him.  Arthur had yet to ruin his reputation in St. Denis and he planned to keep it that way. With his hair brushed back behind his ears and his beard trimmed, he appeared to be a rich mountain man.  He didn’t mind the implication. He would fit right in with all the other well dressed city folk.

Sadie dressed in a yellow cotton dress, with small white buttons down the middle of the shirt and long sleeves to her wrist.  The skirt itself had several layers gathered at the back. It fit her curves nicely, but did nothing more than piss her off. She argued it was constricting, Arthur argued it was only for two days.  In the end, his logic won out.

Charlotte accompanied them to St. Denis, intending to get a bit of shopping done before returning home.  She checked into the same hotel as Arthur and Sadie. It was a middle class hotel, less ritzy than the one Arthur had stayed at before.  Much cheaper to Arthur’s dwindling wallet, as well.

“I’ll leave you two to it,” Charlotte said as she got the keys to her room.  She had dressed in nicer clothing as well, a dark green dress with black trim.  “I don’t want to be near the hanging.”

“I don’t blame you,” Arthur replied and picked up her luggage for her. They headed for the carpeted stairs which led to the hotel rooms.  “It ain’t until tomorrow morning, anyhow. We were thinking of meetin’ later for dinner. That work with you?”

“Sure, that’s fine.”  Charlotte pushed back a dark strand and moved in front so she could unlock her door.  She turned and grabbed her luggage from him. “You and Sadie be safe now, alright?”

Arthur could hear the worry in her voice.  “She and I will be just fine. It’ll be okay, Charlotte.  We ain’t gonna start a fight we ain’t after.”

“Sure.”  Charlotte didn’t believe him, he could see that.  She shut the door.

Arthur and Sadie made their way into their room.  It was modest in size, boasting of a full size bed with clean sheets, a well made wooden dresser and vanity.  One small couch fit in the corner. 

“It’s cozy,” Arthur remarked, setting his luggage on the bed.  “It been awhile since we slept in an actual bed.”

“I wasn’t thinkin’ of sleepin’, so much,” Sadie teased.  “How long it’s been since I could lay back without feelin’ dirt or rocks behind me?”

Arthur pulled her to him and nuzzled her neck.  He could feel her shiver as his beard scratched her skin.  “Maybe we could test it out, see if it’s free of rocks and such?” 

“I  _ am _ wearin’ that skirt you like so much.”

“Hmmm.  That so.” 

“But Charles is probably waitin’ downstairs now.”

With that said, Arthur let her go with a defeated sigh.  As much as he wanted to take her, she was right. “We’d best go, then.”

Arthur and Sadie headed down the stairs to find Charles sitting at the bar.  He was dressed in his usual blue and white shirt with a dark vest. His hair was tied back in a loose braid and his eyes bore dark bags under them that hadn’t been there before, though he still seemed happy to see them.  

“Arthur, it’s good to see you,” he said as he reached out to grab Arthur’s hand.  He moved like he hadn’t slept in ages. “And you, Mrs. Adler. I take it you two are still together?”

“Of course we are,” Sadie said.  She sat down at the nearest free table.

Once they settled around the table and the bartender got them all whiskey, Arthur cut to the chase, keeping his voice quiet.  “How it been with Dutch?”

“Just as you can imagine.  Not good. Dutch now has more men I don’t know, besides Cleet and Joe.  Micah’s been helping with the recruiting,” Charles said and let out an exasperated sigh.  

“They was supposed to rob a bank?”

“It didn’t pan out.  Dutch had to put everything on hold and Hosea took a turn for the worse.  I don’t know what he has, Arthur, but he’s had to stop. When I arrived, Hosea was leaving to go find someplace quiet to live.  Ms. Grimshaw went with him. From the sound of it, Pearson found a job at the Rhodes general store. Uncle and Karen are drinking themselves into a stupor.  It ain’t pretty.”

Arthur took a swig of his whisky and let it burn down his throat while he mused on the information.  He had to prepare himself for running into Dutch and the other men. He also felt bad for Hosea. Arthur knew he had been sick, though Hosea had been an expert at hiding it.  Much like Arthur was getting adept at hiding his own coughing. It still hadn’t gone away.

“Where’s Hosea now?” he asked.

Charles leaned back in his chair and shrugged.  “I don’t know, Arthur. He kept it on the low. Dutch don’t care, either.”

“Tahiti still his idea?”

“Maybe.  He seems content where he is, if you ask me. Robbing and stealing under the guise that he deserves better than everyone.  Always working towards something  _ greater _ .”

Sadie downed her whiskey and made a face as she set the glass down.  “You boys got out before he pulled you down with him.”

“We did.”  Charles stood, the chair squeaking against the floor.  “I’m going to take a walk. I’ll be around.”

“Charles, you welcome to come with us,” Arthur said.  “We’re leavin’ tomorrow. Got a house now, could use your skills.”

“Doesn’t sound like it pays much.  But. Maybe. I’ll think about it.”  Charles waved his hand and walked out the front door.  

Money.  Always money.  Arthur hadn’t had time to make any to repay the bank.  He could survive six months at the most with John’s help.  They had stashed up quite the savings, but in the long run, it wasn’t going to be enough.  Had Arthur started working a job when he was younger, he could have saved up, had a house from the get-go… yet he wouldn’t change the time he spent with Dutch and Hosea.  They had meant everything to him. They still did. But it was time to move on.

Arthur and Sadie spent the next few hours wandering the streets of St. Denis, taking in the busy streets, people, and the different smells.  They visited the bookstore Mary-Beth and Kieran had wanted to see, taking their time by pulling out random books. They both decided to pick one they might like.

“For our bookshelf,” Sadie chimed as she put her newest book in a small bag.

“A bookshelf?” Arthur tucked his own book under his arm.  “I gotta build a bookshelf now?”

“It ain’t hard.”

Arthur agreed at that.  He had never owned a bookshelf.  The books he did own stayed in a trunk or by the table by his cot.  His own, tiny possessions like pictures, letters, and the flower he kept by his bed were the only things of sentimental value.  He had left the picture of Mary behind, though, back at Shady Belle. He didn’t mind it so much.

As they went from store to store, they bought tiny trinkets here and there.  Fresh linens. New silverware. A few different sized cooking pots. They priced out a stove - found a tiny one within a reasonable budget.  They had traveled by wagon with the means to bring a stove back. They had brought their horses Roy and Bob along as well, just in case events turned south and they needed a quick escape.  They scheduled to pick up the stove the next day.

They dropped everything off in their hotel room, their arms full of new possessions.  Arthur was a little taken aback about owning things like different sets of towels. He had never owned a towel specifically for dishware before.  

Before they set off again, Arthur took a breather to admire the book he had gotten.  In reality, a sharp pain had shot through his chest and he had needed an excuse to sit down. His lungs felt like they were heavy and he struggled to breathe.  Sadie had gone out to visit the outhouse; he was grateful she wasn’t here. He didn’t want her to worry.

By the time she returned, he felt a bit better and left with her.

They met up with Charlotte at a tiny restaurant, filled to the brim with people. The white stone building was nestled in between two different clothing stores.  Two golden lights illuminated the front of the building, showing the restaurant was deep, lined with tables with white and gold cloths. Charlotte had snagged a table inside before the two had gotten there and had ordered wine for everybody.  

Once they were seated, Arthur took a small sip of the wine and held back a grimace.  It wasn’t his favorite by far, yet the two women seemed to enjoy it. 

“I grew up someplace like this, you know.  Chicago,” Charlotte said. She held her glass as she looked around the room.  “Fine living, dining. This high society.”

“I take it you don’t miss it,” Sadie stated.

“Heavens, no.  I am much happier being away from cities.  Too much of a hassle. I wasn’t for it at first, but I am glad Cal had convinced me.  Still, you can’t deny they have good food.” Charlotte closed her eyes as she smelled a passing meat platter a waiter was holding.

The waiter approached their table with their food and began setting out the steaming dishes.  Arthur had ordered a lobster bisque and his mouth watered at the smell of it. It was fresh and creamy and a little bit sweet to the taste.

As he swallowed, the pain returned to his chest and he coughed harshly into his hand.  The coughs kept coming, each one worse than the rest. He grabbed a napkin and held it over his mouth as he stood abruptly.  He was out of breath to excuse himself so he merely just walked out of the restaurant. 

He went around the clothing store and collapsed against a wall, letting the coughs work themselves out.  There had been no hiding it from Sadie. He half expected her to follow him out.  

“Arthur?” Instead of Sadie following him out, it had been Mary.  Christ, he hadn’t expected to see her again.  

The coughs subsided enough for him to talk.  He wiped his mouth and pocketed the napkin. “Mary?  What are you doin’ here?”

Mary had her hair pinned back and was wearing a dark red jacket over her gown.  She looked as pretty as ever. “I was dining in the same restaurant. I was just leaving when I saw you dash out.  Are you... okay?”  

“I’m fine,” Arthur waved her off.  “I need to get back inside.” He pushed passed her and stopped when he felt her hand on his arm.  

“I been meaning to mail this to you,” Mary murmured and reached into her jacket.  “It’s a letter. It… it has the ring you sent me.”

Arthur took it from her, dumbfounded.  He hadn’t expected to see the ring again.  “Well. I… appreciate it, Mary. I do. But I should get back in; my party’s waiting for me.”

“You’ve changed.  Look at you.” Mary looked him up and down, then leaned up to fix his cravat.  “You look regal, Arthur. And dining in a restaurant? I had to drag you to them back when.”

“It just for show.”  Arthur took a step back, not wanting to get too comfortable with her.  He shoved the letter with the ring inside his vest pocket. “You take care, now.”  He left her in a hurry as she would try to keep talking to him. He knew her and how she knew how to tug on his heartstrings to make him stay.  

Sadie stood at the outside of the restaurant, hugging her arms around herself.  Relief flooded her face once she saw him. “You was out so fast - you okay?”

“I’m fine.  Let’s go inside.” Arthur took her by the elbow to lead her in.

“You gettin’ worse.  Don’t think you been hidin’ it.”  Sadie stopped him from opening the door.  “I want you to see a doctor.”

“I don’t need to see one.  I been fine for the most part.  Let’s just get these next few days over with, okay?” He pushed open the door and the two walked in.  Charlotte sat at the table, looking a bit distraught.  

“Okay…” Sadie said as they walked up to her.  “But if this happens again, we gonna go see someone.  No buts, Arthur.”

He hesitated to agree, but eventually relented.  

That night as he began to undress, he set the letter deep in his luggage, saving to read it later.  He continued to clean out his pockets and set aside an old pocket watch and the napkin. Red caught his eye and he stilled as he looked the napkin over.  He thought he had coughed out spit - this was blood. Bright red blood. He recalled then there had been an iron taste in his mouth and he hadn’t thought anything of it.

Sadie was still outside with Charlotte talking.  Arthur walked over to the fireplace and tossed in the napkin.  The fireplace swallowed it within seconds.  

He knew it wouldn’t change anything.  But he was beginning to feel afraid.

* * *

Arthur and Sadie stood in the crowd, watching the police officers prepare for the hanging.  They had yet to bring out Colm. People muttered to themselves, telling different stories of the horrors and crimes Colm had committed.  It was a mix of people who had come to watch - some as young as five or six, all the way to the elderly.  

A hanging was a source of excitement for some people.  For Arthur, it was merely a reminder. 

Arthur had changed into his fine clothing once more, as had Sadie, though she now wore a hat as well.  As he had figured, he fit right into the mix of people. Not many would suspect him… he hoped.

A police officer bumped into him and as he turned to see the same lined face, graying hair and perfectly trimmed mustache, Arthur found the one person who could recognize him.  “Hello, Dutch.”

“Arthur,” Dutch responded, his voice cold.  “I see you’re here to watch our friend hang.”

“That we are.”

They turned quiet, not quite knowing what to say to each other.  Arthur felt a nudge by Sadie and looked to where she pointed to.

“They O’Driscolls,” she whispered, keeping her gaze down. 

Three men stood nearby, wearing dusty dark cloaks and muttering amongst themselves.  One motioned up to a tall building behind the group. Arthur tried to inconspicuously look up; Colm had escaped a hanging many a time and the O’Driscoll boys seemed unconcerned.

“They up there,” Arthur sighed.  Dutch was already heading to the building.  “Stay here,” he said to Sadie as he followed his old mentor.  “Don’t do anythin’.”

“I won’t,” Sadie responded and went to go mix into the crowd.

Arthur caught up with Dutch and followed him in silence.  “I got this,” he said to Dutch.  

“Do you?” Dutch questioned.  “I don’t think so, Arthur. You go back to the Mrs. Adler now.  Or is it Mrs. Morgan now?”

“Dutch.  We both know I’m the better sharp shooter.  You should stay down here in case it goes south.”

“Fine.  But if you mess up, I’m holding you accountable.”  Dutch turned on his heel and headed back for the crowd.

Arthur didn’t like the sound of that.  Dutch wouldn’t blame him… would he? He might hold a grudge.  Arthur had dealt with that before. But the older man wouldn’t actually do anything to Arthur.  

He didn’t want to figure that out, at least.  Arthur dashed up an apartment staircase and out an open window onto a roof.  He kept low and quiet, not wanting to alert anyone. So far, the rooftops were clear.  It was a sunny, bright day, the roof tiles hot against his hands as he kneeled down before moving on.

He jumped down to a shorter rooftop which had a clear view of the hanging.  Empty boxes and papers littered the roof but he found what he was looking for.  Their guess had been right - there was a sniper rifle prepped for shooting. Only the shooter was missing.

The roof door shot open and out of the corner of Arthur’s eyes he saw a glint of steel and a body flinging himself at him.  Arthur crumpled to the ground with a grunt and found himself struggling against a man as large as himself. He managed to get a leg under the man’s chest and push him off, then jumped up to his feet. 

The O’Driscoll boy dived and slashed the air where Arthur had been standing.  Arthur continued to dodge, disdain creeping through him. This boy was Kieran’s age, at least.  And he was gonna die, most likely. Arthur dodged to the left of the knife, reached out and snagged the boy’s wrist.  He forced the knife to drop, then laid a knee into the man’s stomach.  

He fell, the wind knocked out of him.  Arthur lifted him up and knocked him senseless.  The boy fell unconscious, nose bleeding and broken.

Arthur quickly went to the rifle and peered over the edge.  Colm now stood on the platform, a noose around his neck. By now, the man had realized something was wrong.  Arthur waved at him, feeling no remorse. That man had ordered him to be tortured - he deserved no sympathy from Arthur.

Sadie and Dutch were down in the crowd, holding back the O’Driscolls.  Arthur couldn’t see the weapons, but they were in control. All that was left was to watch Colm hang. 

Five seconds later, the guard pulled the lever and the floor released from under Colm.  The fear on his face was replaced with anguish as he fell, the rope instantly tightening around his neck.  Colm didn’t die instantly. He struggled and kicked and gurgled through his crushing windpipes. After a minute of this, he halted his movements, his face blue and skewed.

It was over.  Arthur looked down to Sadie to see how she was.  She had let go of the O’Driscoll, as had Dutch. The O’Driscolls backed away.

Arthur could see Sadie shaking from where he was.  She looked up to him and looked as if she said, “I’m sorry.”  She lifted her gun and shot one of the O’Driscolls point blank, then shot the other.  

Arthur cursed as it turned into a madhouse.  The crowd scattered in every single direction and gunshots went off from god knows where.  Dutch and Sadie retreated behind a wagon for cover. Police officers joined them in fighting against the O’Driscolls.

There were O’Driscolls pouring out from everywhere.  They had all come to save Colm - only to realize they had failed.  Arthur took down a few of them with the sniper rifle, but then deemed it was clear.  He left the rifle and went across the rooftops and down the staircase.  

Sadie was raging, firing off shot after shot.  Arthur ran to her and yanked her to him and held her close. He could feel her shaking and sobbing - this had been a terrible idea.  He whispered sweet words into her ear while dragging her away. Sadie dropped the gun and Arthur pulled her away from the chaos, heading for their hotel.  Police officers and the O’Driscolls were still putting up a fight, an excellent distraction for them.  

“Let’s get back,” Arthur said, his arm still around her.  People were still running all around. If they were lucky, the police officers would say the O’Driscolls started the fight.  If not, he and Sadie best leave fast before they started looking for a lady in yellow.  

They found Charles at the hotel lobby.  He hurried to them and followed them up the stairs.  “What happened? Did it-”

Arthur led them into their room and shut the door with a hard click.  “He’s dead. But we started a fight and the police are involved. We ain’t in no danger.  But I don’t wanna risk it. Best we leave.”

Sadie wiped her eyes, sniffed, and pulled out clothing from her pack.  “Charles, turn away,” she said and started undressing. Charles turned away without argue.  “Dutch was talkin’ to me. Sayin’ the last of the O’Driscolls are stationed at Hangin’ Dog Ranch, out in West Elizabeth.  I’m goin’ there.”

“West Elizabeth - Sadie, that’s a week’s ride at the very least, if not more,” Arthur said, taken by surprise.  

“You don’t have to come.”

“Of course I do.  Charles. I have a request.”  Arthur went to his own bag and started to pull out clothes meant for long riding.  “We came with Charlotte Balfour. She’s in the room just across from us. Can you escort her back to Roanoke Ridge?  All these items have to go as well.”

“I can.  I know this means a lot to you, Mrs. Adler.”

“Oh, and pick up a stove.”  Arthur paused to run a hand over his face.  He hoped this was the last of his adventures for awhile.  “Charlotte knows of it - she’ll go with you. Let’s go introduce you, in fact.” He and Charles walked out and caught Charlotte just leaving her room.

“How was it?” she asked, concerned.  

“It was… well, we don’t have to worry about him anymore.  But Sadie and me have to go. We’ll be gone for…” Arthur let out a frustrated sigh.  “A month, at least.”

“A month?”

“Charles here will escort you home.  He’s one of the best men I know.” Arthur patted Charles on the shoulder.   

“Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Balfour.”  Charles shook her hand in greeting. “You don’t have to worry about anything with me.  Just tell me what to do.”

“As long as you don’t do any funny business, but I trust Arthur, so…” Charlotte frowned.  “Are you okay, Arthur?”

“I am, but…” Arthur looked to his hotel door.  “She ain’t. I gotta talk to her - Charles, can you help Charlotte with getting the wagon ready?” At Charles nod, Arthur walked back into his room and found Sadie nearly done packing.  She had changed into dark brown pants and a white shirt. She moved around the room in an angry flurry, though her brown eyes were distant.  

“Can we talk about this?” Arthur asked, feeling like a fool.  He didn’t know how to help her. He didn’t even blame her for what she did - she had a lot of anger built up.  He just hadn’t realized how much.  

“We can once we out of St. Denis,” Sadie huffed. She grabbed her pack.  “I’ll meet you by the horses.”  

She walked past him and he stopped her by catching her arm.  “I’m there for you,” Arthur murmured, leaning his forehead against hers.  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was shaking still. “Just breathe, Sadie.  You ain’t alone in this.”

“I know,” Sadie whispered.  “It just. Hit me. I couldn’t stop seein’ my Jakie’s face.  I need this, Arthur. Then I can finally put him to rest.”

Arthur leaned down and kissed the tear sliding down her face. She let out a shaky breath and leaned into him as he said, “I love you, and I’m there for you all the way.  Let’s go.”  


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the later than usual chapter. Life kinda hit. Thank you for the reviews!

The air was colder up in the Grizzlies.  Arthur had brought his wolf pelt and wore it draped around his shoulders.  His heavy jacket was rolled up and tied to the horse in case he would need it.  A light, cold breeze followed them as they traveled west and the rain had kept at bay, making their travel pleasant. 

After two days of traveling, Sadie began relaxing.  Arthur noticed she smiled a bit more at his comments, her cheeks were flushed a bit more.  On the third night, they even made tender love by a creek and held each other until they fell asleep.  

Arthur was determined to make this last fight against the O’Driscoll as painless as possible.  He wasn’t worried about he and Sadie fighting against them - he knew they could do it, especially that Colm was gone.  It was afterwards, when Sadie was done with her vengeance.  

He hoped this wouldn’t scar her for life. 

By the end of the week, they were exhausted from the daily travel, and took a day to relax along a lake.  Hanging Dog Ranch was less than a few hour’s away and they wanted to be at their full strength when they attacked. 

“We’ll use stealth,” Arthur said, putting logs down so he could build a fire.  He lightly coughed into his shoulder and moved on. “It’s only just the two of us.  I got some dynamite Charles handed me before we left. Best play it smart and use it.”

Sadie grabbed the small fishing rod Arthur kept attached to his saddle.  “You and I could do this with our eyes closed. I ain’t too worried.” The edge of the lake was ten feet away.  She went over and stepped into the water with her boots, then tossed the fishing line. It landed far out with a tiny plunk.

“There’s a big, fat O’Driscoll, with a beard,” Sadie said.  She flicked her eyes to Arthur then looked back to the water.  “Save him for me.”

“‘Course.” Arthur kneeled down and used his flint.  The kindling caught fire without complaint. The evening sun was still very present, but he liked the heat the fire offered.  Even though it was only September, there was a winter chill this high up.  

Arthur wondered what that particular O’Driscoll did, if he was responsible for Jake’s death and… Arthur hated thinking of it.  He would rather wring the O’Driscoll’s neck himself if that man had touched or abused Sadie. Still, this was Sadie’s agenda. It wasn’t about Arthur.  He had had his revenge on the Gap tooth O’Driscoll and when Colm had been hung. Arthur was satisfied with that.

Something tugged at the end of Sadie’s fishing line.  She gave a small cheer and fought with the fish for a bit, then reeled in a small but decent pike.  She handed it over to Arthur, then went to cast out another line.

“You a better fisherman than me,” Arthur commented as he sliced the fish and gutted it.  “I don’t have patience for it.”

“You hunt all the time.  You’re the one who came back with the most deer, back at Valentine.”

“Yes, but I get to move, track, explore.  With fishin’... you just watch the water. Ain’t that great.”

Sadie smiled.  “You and Kieran went fishin’ those months ago?  And you bathed together? And I caught the first view of your behind?  Goddamn, did I not expect that from you.”

Arthur felt himself redden.  “It just happened that way. Who took our horses and clothes, anyhow?  Never did figure that out.”

“Whoever was drunk that night, I suppose.  Uncle. Bill. Karen. Or Micah, because he’s a right bastard.”

The day slowly turned into night as they ate their dinner.  The two of them became silent as they sat around the fire, cleaning and oiling their guns in preparation.  Arthur had kept his pistol in prime condition, though age was beginning to show on the grip. The carving of an elk in the grip had begun to fade away as the years went on.  He had taken time to have the same carving in his favorite rifle.

The next day, his rifle was his main weapon of choice.  He had a small scope attached to it, which he used to scout out Hanging Dog Ranch.  Rain had held off long enough on the trip and now a slight drizzle greeted them. O’Driscolls were everywhere, all wearing the same kind of long black jacket and dirty look about them.  He could see a few of them arguing amongst themselves, while a few did patrols around the area.

If Arthur could get close enough without alerting them, he figured he could toss the dynamite in to where the cluster of them were.  It would get rid of a few of them, but his aim would need to be precise.

Sadie was bone white as she listened to him discuss the plan.  

“After I throw the dynamite, you take out the patrols, then make your way up,” Arthur explained to her in a low tone.  He had been watching the patrols for quite some time. There was a span of time where an area was unguarded when he could sneak up to the fence and toss it in.  

“Got it,” Sadie breathed and pointed to the house.  “The man must be in there. Don’t shoot ‘im.”

“I know.  Don’tchu worry, Sadie.”  Arthur double checked his gun and adjusted his hat as he mentally prepared himself.  “Let’s do this.” He gave a quick kiss to Sadie and made his way down, staying low to the ground with the dynamite in his hand.

Dynamite wasn’t his favorite choice.  It was a messy job and had taken awhile to get used to the carnage.  It was necessary when they were outnumbered.  

Hanging Dog Ranch was an old, ill kept ranch with a farmhouse, shed, and a barn.  Tents were hitched near the back and random junk was strewn about. Arthur hopped over the wooden fence once the patrols had passed, then made his way to the barn.  The rain helped muffled his footsteps. The cluster of O’Driscolls were still arguing by the edge of the barn - not one had seen him yet.

He lit the dynamite without hesitance - hoping the rain didn’t quench it - and waited a second to toss it.  He aimed it directly in between the group of four men, still chattering amongst themselves. He dove behind the barn and waited.  From the sudden screams and loud explosion, Arthur could tell it worked. He waited for the dirt to settle, then looked over the edge with his rifle.  

All four men were down, though whether or not they were injured, Arthur couldn’t tell.  He caught a glimpse at a head peeking out from the shed across the way; he shot the person in the head and they fell backwards.  O’Driscolls started appearing left and right. The wood around Arthur shattered and splintered near him, causing him to duck behind the barn. 

A few shots sounded off and Sadie stormed into view, eyes raging, her pistols smoking in her hands.  She took down the onslaught of O’Driscolls and hid behind the shed.  

Once there was a break in shooting, Sadie went ahead to hide behind a wagon.  Arthur went through the barn and made sure it was clear. Once he confirmed it was, he pushed the door open to head outside and saw Sadie kick through the front door of the farmhouse.  An O’Driscoll came from around the right corner of the house and attempted to follow her in; Arthur shot him in the shoulder, then finished it with a shot to the head.  

Arthur tried to ignore the blood splatter against the farm house, or the man who had suffered a few limbs from the dynamite.  He had no pity for them, yet his body was screaming how tired it was of the bloodshed. Every nerve protested as he pulled the trigger - yet it must be done.  The O’Driscolls did nothing but destroy everything they touched. This would be an end to them.

Sadie screamed from inside the house, making Arthur jump.  He cursed and ran to the house, his heart racing. He made it to the door and pushed it open with his shoulder, then pointed his rifle as he scouted out for enemies.  One O’Driscoll lay dead on the floor. Another lay a few feet from him, mouth slack, a bullet still smoking from his forehead.  

He heard a thump up on the second floor.  He ran through the living room and ran up the stairs to find Sadie standing over a man with a knife. She had found the one she was looking for - a middle aged, pasty man with a large gut and beard.  He screamed like a coward as he tried to get away from her.

Arthur could see Sadie’s pistols had been tossed aside for her knife.  She stood above the man, her whole body shaking. Sometime during the fight she had lost her hair tie, letting her hair shroud her in a halo.  One quick move and Sadie had stepped over the man and dug her knife into his chest.  

The yell the man uttered was nearly silent; the sound of the knife twisting in his gut and Sadie’s sobs filled the room.  The instant her hands let go of the knife Arthur was there for her, his rifle set aside as he gathered in her arms. Blood drenched the front of her shirt, her hands, her face.  Arthur pulled her away from the body and together they collapsed on the wall as Sadie sobbed into his shirt.

“It’s okay,” Arthur said, holding her tight.  

“Me and Jake… that man took it all,” Sadie wept into his shirt.  “Jakie and I, we was… he’s gone, Arthur. Really, really gone.”

Arthur ran a hand absently up and down her back and stayed silent.  He knew she had loved Jake - had loved him so much, in fact, Sadie had personally eliminated the O’Driscolls.  

After a few minutes of sitting in silence, Arthur finally couldn’t stand the smell of blood.  He slowly got up and pulled Sadie with him. “It’s over, Sadie. You did it. You avenged Jake.  Now it’s best we go and clean ourselves up, alright?”

Sadie rubbed her eyes and let herself be led out.  Arthur made sure to collect their weapons. By the time they reached outside, the rain was pouring in sheets.  Sadie let go of Arthur and took a few steps into the rain, letting the water wash over her.  

“I still alive,” Sadie said.  She lifted her arms and blinked as raindrops hit her face.  “After this, I still alive. Maybe I ain’t meant to die yet, Arthur.  I had wished for it, so I could be with my Jakie. But I ain’t.”

“No, you ain’t.”

“You the reason for that,” Sadie said and looked back at him.  Her face was clean of blood as the rain wet her face. “I love you, Arthur Morgan.  Thank you for lettin’ me settle this for Jake and me.”

Arthur closed the distance between them and put a hand on her cheek.  “You the most spirited woman I met. I am glad to walk beside you, Sadie.”  He kissed her softly, wishing he could pause the world at that very moment.

“We best loot before people show up,” Sadie murmured once they broke away.  “Last time we be able to loot for awhile, anyhow.”

Arthur didn’t disagree with her.  He let her take the outside and he took the farmhouse, making sure to check every nook and cranny.  The O’Driscolls liked hiding their money in tough places to find, though Arthur knew how to look for them by now.  He kept his eyes peeled for loose floorboards - in a house this old, there were many. Arthur skipped the ones which were dusty or covered with cobwebs.  

He passed the fireplace and stuck his hand up the charred chimney.  He ran his hand over the stones and checked for anything stuck in them.  His fingers touched something light - he grabbed it and yanked it out. A wad of several hundred dollars.  That was better than nothing. He pocketed the money and continued to search for the loose boards.  

There was little hope the O’Driscolls hadn’t taken all the money and split it up between themselves now that Colm was gone.  Still, there was a chance.  

Out here, there was a small chance of the law finding them any time soon, unless someone passing had taken notice.  Strawberry was the nearest town and hours away. Arthur and Sadie had time to comb the place.

A broken floorboard caught his attention.  He knelt down, grabbed the chipped corner and pulled it off with ease.  There was a large crevice with a metal box tucked inside. Arthur pulled it out and set it on the floor.  He grabbed his small knife from his belt and fiddled with the lock, which clicked with a satisfactory pop.  

He nearly grinned when he opened it.  A few thousand dollars greeted him, along with other tiny trinkets of expensive watches, rings, and necklaces, among other things.  Arthur searched the house until he found a decent satchel an O’Driscoll had been wearing, thankfully free of blood. He packed it full of the money and trinkets and left to go find Sadie.

She was in the process of leading the horses into the ranch.  Arthur met up with her and opened the bag for her to see. Her mouth dropped open at the sight of it.

“We’ll count it later,” Arthur said.  He shut the satchel close and grabbed his horse’s reins.  “You okay?”

“Ready to get out of here.  I got a few dollars from each O’Driscoll, and their jewelry, but not much.”

“It don’t matter.  Let’s get out of here.”

* * *

They stopped at Emerald Ranch a few days later to sell the trinkets.  Arthur always liked Emerald Ranch; it was a beautiful ranch amidst a valley of rolling green hills.  Arthur still knew a fence there. He had barely dealt with the man, but in order to sell the trinkets, the man would be willing to pay cash, no questions asked.  

The fence was more than pleased with the trinkets.  Arthur left with just a little over a hundred dollars.  It was nothing more than dirty money, stolen time and time again.  He and Sadie had discussed they would use the money only to survive - they would not take up looting from then on.  

Night had fallen and Arthur planned to scout out someplace to camp before they continued on.  He was more than grateful when they stopped for the night. His chest was aching something fierce and he wanted to sleep it off.  He excused himself to take care of his business, only to dissolve into a coughing fit once he was a ways away.

His palms turned clammy as he tried to control the coughing.  The trees around him began dancing and he collapsed against one as a wave of pain clenched his chest.  A large dark figure entered his vision as he tried to find his bearings.  

“You ain’t doin’ so good,” a voice said and grabbed Arthur from under the arms.  

Arthur focused in on the man and found himself looking at a heavyset, stinky man who only wore a pair of overalls.  “I’m…. I’m fine,” he huffed out. The pain in his chest had begun to settle. 

“Let me take you over here - that’s my house, over that hill.  My wife can getchu some tea for that cough.” The heavyset man picked up Arthur easily and set him over his shoulder.

Arthur was slightly desperate for anything at that moment but he did  _ not  _ like the way this man was acting.  Sadie was probably wondering where he was by now.  Arthur tried to push himself up. “Let go of me.” 

The man’s grip on his legs tightened.  As the man was easily a hundred pounds heavier than Arthur and just as tall, the man had the strength over him.  “My wife loves visitors, you know. You ain’t gonna refuse her tea now, would you?”

Arthur was in trouble.  He knew how this would turn out.  He struggled more against the ironclad grip and tried to kick his legs.  “Let me go, mister. You ain’t in the right of mind.”

They came into the view of the house and passed it.  The man led Arthur away from the house and into a thick patch of forest.  A stench hit the air and Arthur put a hand on his holster; his guns were missing.  The fat man must have knocked them aside when he found him. 

“This ain’t how we normally do things,” the fat man was saying.  “But you have the look about you, mister. And that bag of yours.”  He lifted Arthur and threw him down a slick patch of mud.  

Arthur tumbled down and fell on his back.  What little air his lungs had vanished. He struggled for breath as rain pelted his face and only just saw a heavy object heading for his face.  He turned on his side and dashed to stand up; he was dizzy on his feet but had avoided being decapitated from a shovel.

The fat man swung the shovel again, which Arthur fell backwards avoiding.  His feet slid in the mud and he landed partly on some dirt and what felt like a body.  He wasn’t able to give it much thought. The shovel kept flying at him and his strength was waning. 

There was a loud gunshot and suddenly the fat man collapsed beside Arthur, his limbs slack.  Arthur gasped and crawled away, his fingers digging into the mud. He rolled to his back once he reached clean grass and took in deep gulps of air.

“Arthur, what happened?” Sadie was saying.  She held Arthur’s pistols in her hands and had his pack over her shoulder.  “How did he get you?” She leaned down and ran a hand down his face. “You don’t look injured, ‘cept this blood on your lip.  Did he hit you?”

Arthur shook his head weakly.  “I ain’t… I ain’t doin’ so well, Sadie.”

“Arthur Morgan,” Sadie chided.  She whistled for the horses. “We takin’ you to the doctor in Rhodes.  You okay to ride?”

Arthur nodded again. Sadie offered her hand and helped him stand.  He was wobbly on his feet and everything seemed to be spinning. He leaned on Sadie for support and the two of them met the horses on the road.  Once Sadie made sure he was on his horse and could stay on, she hopped on hers and they were off on the road again, hours away from Rhodes.

By the time they reached the town, Arthur was all shades of done.  They hitched the horses to the post and he let himself collapse to the ground.  

When he came to, he was lying in a small room with a tiny balding man standing over him, holding a stethoscope to his chest.  Sadie stood next to him, her arms crossed with one hand holding her necklace. Her eyes brightened once she saw he was awake and she helped him sit up and put pillows behind him.

“I been worried sick,” Sadie murmured and planted a soft kiss on his forehead.  “The doctor is checkin’ you out now.”

The doctor backed away and set the stethoscope around his neck.  By the grim look on his face, Arthur knew it wasn’t good. The doctor turned around and grabbed a pipe off a table and lit it.

“What is it?” Arthur asked after the doctor didn’t elaborate.   “Tell me straight.”

“You have tuberculosis, son,” the doctor said.  He let out a puff of smoke.

Sadie gasped and held a hand over her mouth in disbelief.

“Well? … What can I do about it?” Arthur didn’t know what else to say.

“Get plenty of rest and fresh air.  There isn’t anything that can be done.  I’m sorry, son.”  

“How much... “

“Could be a few months, could be a few years.  I’ll leave you two, now. You can leave payment at the window there.”  The doctor bowed his head and left the room. He shut the door behind him quietly.

Tuberculosis. TB.  That didn’t seem real to Arthur.  He ran a hand through his hair and realized he was still covered in mud.  He sat up and swung his legs over, feeling numb to his very core.

“Arthur…” Sadie began.

He waved her off.  “It’s contagious, ain’t it,” he stated in a light voice.  At Sadie’s grimace, he knew it. Now he knew why this all felt similar, this coughing, this blood - months ago, at the Downes farm.  Mr. Downes, who owed Strauss some money. Mr. Downes, who died from his disease. This disease. Made Mrs. Downes a widow, made her lose her house. And now she was a street walker.

He couldn’t be there right now.  He stood up and stormed out the door, only pausing to set a small amount of bills on the counter.  Sadie was at his heel. 

“I got us a room,” Sadie said.  She grabbed Arthur’s hand and led him towards the saloon.  She was upset as well, but Arthur didn’t know what of. Him being sick?  Him holding it from her so long?  

She didn’t say.  They walked with a fury through the dusty road and to the saloon.  As it was not yet morning, the saloon was deserted. She led him into the back of the saloon where the bathing room was stationed.  It was a cramped room with one small bathtub, stool, and one cracked mirror on the wall. The wall paint was chipped and in dire need of repainting.

“Undress.  Get in the water,” Sadie commanded.  The water was already warmed; Sadie had asked for it ahead of time as well.

Arthur did as he was told.  He undid the necktie and set it aside, then slid off his boots and socks.  After his shirt, pants, and long johns were off, he went to the bath and slowly set himself in.  He barely noticed the heat of the water. Sadie grabbed a washcloth and some soap then went to sit on the side of the tub.  

“So what we gonna do about this?” she asked as she dipped the cloth into the tub.

“Do what about what?” Arthur’s voice didn’t feel like his own - his mind felt blank.  

“You.  This… tuberculosis.”

“You heard the doctor.  There ain’t no cure.”

“There has to be.”

“Sadie, there ain’t-” Arthur stopped once he heard her sniff.  He looked back at her and saw the tears pouring down her face. “Sadie.  Don’t. Don’t cry for me.”

“We just built our house, Arthur.  I ain’t gonna lose you from this.”

Arthur caught her hand in his and nearly kissed her palm, but stopped himself.  “I shouldn’t even be touching you.” He let go of her hand. “We know it contagious.”

“I been with you how long now and have I showed any signs?  No. Arthur, I refuse. I ain’t gonna stop touchin’ you. I ain’t gonna stop makin’ love to you.”

“I don’t wanna risk puttin’ you in danger!”

Sadie started scrubbing his head and ignored his comment.  “How’d you get it in the first place?”

“... Only person I can think of is Mr. Downes.  He was sick when I found him, he coughed in my face.”  Arthur grabbed the washcloth from Sadie and completed the rest of the cleaning.  He stood and stepped out of the bath.

“Arthur.  We both agreed to be there for one another.” Sadie still sat on the stool, her shoulders slumped and her tears openly flowing.

He was silent as he got dressed.  The heat of the water must finally be getting to him; his face felt warm.  Everything seemed to be crashing in on him at that moment. He was not a crying man - but he felt tears he had not let fall in a long, long time.  “We did, Sadie. That we did. But my sins have finally caught up to me. And now, I must pay.” He blinked away the tears, avoided her gaze, and walked out of the room.

There wasn’t anywhere to go but the room.  His limbs were tired, his mind exhausted, and his lungs screaming at him to rest.  As he lay in bed that night, his thoughts wouldn’t let him fall asleep. He tossed and turned and angrily wiped away tears - he didn’t deserve them.  He shouldn’t feel pity for himself.

Yet when Sadie crawled into bed beside him and held him in her arms, he silently wept.


	19. Chapter 19

Arthur felt numb once he saw his house.  Abigail and Charlotte must have been working on the garden, with several pristine garden beds set up and ready for planting.  There was a new wooden fence and chicken coop just away from the house which hadn’t been there before, with several chickens clucking away.  

Two wagons of lumber were stationed by the house as well.  He hadn’t ordered any more - John must have taken the initiative and done it himself.  

Despite the new changes, Arthur was glad to be back, for Sadie’s sake.  He and Sadie had taken their time returning, not saying much to each other, but not doing much, either.  Arthur was still debating on how contagious tuberculosis actually was. Mr. Downes had coughed directly into Arthur’s face - he remembered that moment very well.  Arthur had been making sure to cough away from Sadie; he would have to keep vigilant with that.

Even touching her scared him, but the amount of times he and Sadie had touched so far in their relationship, he was surprised she hadn’t developed it. Maybe the infection wasn’t transferred by touch.  Maybe it was. Arthur didn’t know and had still refused to touch her.

It made Sadie unhappy and upset with him.  He didn’t want to risk her catching it - it was his sin, and his alone.  

Arthur hitched his horse on the newly built fence outside the house.  He noticed a half built fence down the hill, nearly surrounding the pond.  It would be suitable to host the horses. 

“Uncle Arthur!” 

He started and turned to face the boy who came darting out of the house.  “Stop right there, Jack. Let me come to you.”  

Jack stopped in his tracks and looked confused.  “Okay.”

Arthur sighed and gathered his pack.  “You go say hi to Sadie, okay?”

Sadie had gotten off her horse and held out her arms for Jack, who came running for a quick hug.  “How you been?” Sadie asked him and led him into the house.

Arthur gritted his teeth and wandered away from the house.  He planned to sleep outside, away from everyone. He would have to set up his tent before night fell.  There had been a campfire built on a flat spot away from the back of the house. He would set up there.

John met him on his way over, sporting a gruff beard.  “Welcome back. Whatchu doin?”

“Settin’ up my tent.”

John looked to the house and back to Arthur, his eyebrows raised.  “Sadie kick you out?”

“No.”

“Well…” John trailed off.  “Charles is still here. You wandered inside?”

“No.”  Arthur set down his pack and laid out his tent.  He could feel John’s gaze burning on him. As he moved to set out the tent, John went to help without question.  

“You… okay?”

Arthur felt a cough building in his chest.  He took a step back and hacked into his shoulder.  He had woken up with his lungs feeling heavy as if it was full of water - except it was small bits of blood he coughed out.  Once the episode passed, he wiped his mouth with a cloth and put it in his pocket.

Charles made his way over from the trees, his dark hair tied back and his sleeves pulled up as if he had been working hard physically.  Arthur guessed the new fence had been his doing. “Arthur, I’m glad you returned. You okay?”

“I’m…” Arthur had contemplated many a time how to tell them.  It wouldn’t stay a secret, not if he had to live here. Sadie had agreed to relay the message if she had a chance to, which she was most likely telling Abigail right now. He put a hand on his belt and scratched his beard. “I ain’t good.”  Not only it was the infection, but Arthur was missing his cigarettes. He hadn’t had a taste for them recently as his lungs had protested, yet he had been craving them like hell. He had attempted smoking several times and always wound up disgusted with himself.

“I can see that,” John said curtly.  “What’s wrong with you?” 

Charles crossed his arms.  “You’ve lost weight.”  

Arthur looked away.  “I’ve tb. That’s it.”

John blinked several times in disbelief.  “Ho-how? Do you-”

“Mr. Downes.  When I acted as a loanshark for Strauss.  He had it, coughed in my face. I been gettin’ sick ever since.”

There was a pause.  “I’m sorry, Arthur-” Charles began.

“I ain’t askin’ for your pity,” Arthur snapped.  He had been holding the tent pole in his hands - he tossed it to the ground in frustration and stormed off to the woods.

His property was several acres - he and Sadie had marked it off with rope around the nearest trees.  They had planned locations for a stable where they could host and possibly breed horses. Planned to build a larger garden somewhere in the forest.  Planned to create stone paths and even plant flowers. Flowers. Arthur had never thought of doing something like that in his entire life.

And now he was angry he never would.  A part of him wished he would just die already - but a bigger part of him wished he could stay with Sadie and ignore everything and keep working for the life they had wanted.

John and Charles had followed him.  “Arthur, come see your house,” Charles was saying.  He caught up to the larger man and yanked him to a stop.  “See what we’ve done.”

“Charles and I have been hard at work - we been waitin’ for your approval before we continue,” John added.  

“My approval ain’t needed much anymore,” Arthur spat, but nevertheless followed them to the house.  They went through the backdoor and Arthur instantly understood why they had wanted him inside.  

Brand new furniture filled the house, along with carpets, side tables, and simple decor of painting and flowers.  He went into the bathing room first and found it had a large tub, stool, and mirror, along with a wooden closet in the room.  He wandered over to the window and touched the new drapes over the window. He had never owned drapes before.

These were all items he and Sadie had browsed over while they had been in St. Denis.

He walked out and went to his and Sadie’s room.  His heart nearly jumped out of his chest. There was a full size bed, made up with plush blankets and pillows.  One large dresser sat in the corner, a deep mahogany set that matched the wood of the bed. There was a rocking chair in the other corner, right next to a wooden crib.

A crib.  

Arthur felt light headed and stumbled forward.  He found himself caught by Charles, who helped him over to the bed. He felt his whole world swirling - they hadn’t planned a crib.  No, it had not been a part of their discussion. No. Arthur snuck a glance at the crib again and felt himself go weak.  

Charles left the room and Sadie wandered in, her face pale.  She shut the door behind her and leaned against it.

“Why we got a crib?” Arthur asked, his voice tight.  He wanted to hear that it was only just in case they would have had a kid. Maybe…

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Sadie said, tears in her eyes.  She held her stomach. “It would have been happy news, under different circumstances.  I’m pregnant, Arthur.”

“How… how long?”

“I suspected it when we were in St Denis.  I’m almost two months along, now.”

“You…” Arthur could barely form the words.  “I put you… at risk, durin’ the fightin’? You knew?”

“I couldn’t let it stop me,” Sadie retorted.  “If I had died, well, then you wouldn’t’ve had to mourn your child, too.”

“ _Sadie._ ” Arthur rubbed his hands over his face and let out a shaky breath. He was so tired.  And yet, his heart was pounding with joy and anguish at the same time. If he had known months ago, he would have tried to stop her from fighting the O’Driscolls.  Yet he knew he would not have been able to stop her from leaving. It would have had the same outcome.

And now his child would grow up without a father.  

Sadie closed the distance between them and put her arms around him and held him to her chest.  “You ain’t gonna die, Arthur. You ain’t. You are gonna grow old and see your child.”

Despite him not wanting to touch her, he leaned in and closed his eyes.  He wrapped his arms around her back and held her tight. “It ain’t that simple.  I’m a dyin’ man-”

“Don’t.  Don’t do this to me, Morgan.  We are gonna continue livin’ our lives.  We are gonna build our stable, our gardens.”

Arthur took a deep breath and pushed her away.  He kept her at arm’s length. “You ain’t been sick?”  He didn’t know much about pregnancy, but Abigail had been sick for the longest time with Jack.  And he hadn’t even been there for most of Eliza’s pregnancy.

Sadie shook her head.  “No. I been feelin’ off, though.  I missed my courses, twice now. And I always been on time.  When we left St. Denis, I suspected it and told Charlotte to get a crib, in case.  If it turned out to be wrong… well, it would have been for our future child. I ain’t showin’ yet, but…”

“I am… I’m at loss for words.”  Arthur stood up and wandered over to the window. The view offered a glimpse at the pond.  

“You… happy?”

“I am.  Let me be clear on that.”  Arthur still didn’t look at her.  He was happier than anything right then. “I wish I could hold you, celebrate with you… but it ain’t that easy.  It just ain’t. I’ll stay here, help build the ranch. I’ll support you and our child, until…”

“Until nothin’!” 

“Don’t.  Not right now, Sadie.”

Sadie huffed. “Abigail’s fixin’ dinner.  I’d like you to join us.”

“I have to finish settin’ up my tent.”  Arthur pulled his hat down and brushed by Sadie to open the door.  He avoided her touch and went outside. There was still more of the house to see, more questions about who bought the furniture, who he’d have to pay back -

But all he did was wander to the woods and grieve for the life he was going to miss.

* * *

Eventually he found out from Charles that Sadie had purchased half the furniture with her own money; Charlotte had loaned money to cover the rest with the promise it would be paid back.  Sadie explained it was a money stash she had gotten while a part of the gang. Her share hadn’t been much. Before she had left St. Denis, she had left a long list and the money with Charlotte, who went to buy everything along with Charles’ help.  John had ordered lumber to make fences and hitch posts for the horses. The chicken coop had been their first build.

Arthur chose to divy up the O’Driscoll money between him, John and Charles, meaning a couple thousand for each.  Charlotte was reimbursed for buying the furniture. Sadie would have full control of the money and Arthur made sure she knew of it.  It would keep her safe and comfortable for a few years.

Charlotte never questioned where the money came from.  She was happy to see Arthur back, but devastated upon the news of his infection.  She made herself available when she could, when she wasn’t taking care of her own house.  Charles also chose to stay with her, as she had a spare room for him.

Despite Arthur coughing every now and then, each day became easier for him.  He kept at an arm’s length from everyone, but helped where he could. The fence for the horses was completed within a few days.  

Every night he would retreat to his tent, each night being harder than the next.  He ached to have Sadie beside him at night. He missed kissing her goodnight, missed her fire.  Yet still she would be with him at his campfire for dinner, her spirit optimistic. 

One night, Arthur came back with two tiny fish ready to cook.  It had been a day where he hadn’t felt like moving much, so he had resorted to fishing which didn’t require much movement.  The fish weren’t brag worthy, but they were enough to feed him and Sadie.  

She was already prepping the campfire when he approached.  She wore a simple skirt with a light jacket, and her hair was let down.  Arthur’s heart fluttered when he saw her as it always did. How he had gotten so lucky with her, he didn’t know.  Her new knowledge of her pregnancy seemed to bring a glow about her - her smile radiated happiness.

Yet he could see it falter a smidge when she saw him, replaced with a flicker of worry.  She hid her worry well.

“Brought us dinner,” Arthur said once he was close.  He went to his makeshift table - the one he had attempted to build as a dinner table - and grabbed his knife to gut the fish.

Sadie came to stand by him.  “They so tiny. You shoulda let me come with you.”

“Wanted to impress you,” Arthur said.  He poked one of the fish with the knife.  “I take it they didn’t do a good job?”

Sadie chuckled.  “Oh, they did, for sure.”

“I tried.”

She placed a hand on his shoulder.  It was about the most contact he had been allowing.  “You done good. I’ve some beans cookin’. Best we get the fish cookin’, too.”

Arthur had argued many times she should be eating inside with the others, but he had lost that argument every time.  He cut open the fish and began prepping it.

“We got a letter from Mary-Beth today,” Sadie mentioned as she walked over to the fire where the beans were cooking.  She grabbed a spoon and stirred it. “She and Kieran are doin’ well. They expect to get married in January and want us there.”

“Surprised they ain’t done it earlier.”

“Well… she mentioned they wanna have a little bit of money saved up.  She apparently got in contact with an author somewhere - she might become a real writer sometime soon, from what she said.”

“You know I snuck up to her wagon and read a few of her stories?” 

“You didn’t!”

Arthur nodded.  “Several times. Silly little romances.  Still, she has talent. Always knew she was meant for more, and I glad she got out when she did.  Dutch was startin’ to be keen with her, ya know.”

“Ugh.  Poor Mary-Beth.”

“Wish we coulda helped Karen.”

“She will find her way, I know it.”

“Into a ditch, more like.”

“Arthur,” Sadie chided.  “That ain’t nice.”

“Life ain’t nice.”  Arthur grabbed the meat and went over to the pan on the fire.  He placed the fish in the pan, which began sizzling in response.

Sadie wrinkled her nose.  “How fresh were those fish?”

“Caught ‘em today.”

“They smell awful.”  Sadie held a hand over her mouth.  

Arthur leaned forward to smell the fish.  “They smell... normal?” 

“I’m gonna… just go over here.” Sadie turned and wandered off to a tree.  She gripped the side of the tree, leaned over and vomited.

“Oh!” Arthur went to her and started rubbing her back.  “You okay?”

“The baby don’t like fish,” Sadie huffed and spat out the last of the vomit.  “Oh, that smells horrible.”

“I’ll get rid of it, hold on.”  Arthur ran to the fish and scooped them up with a utensil.  He ran to the small pen they had recently built meant for pigs.  John had picked up a small pig just yesterday and already Jack had named it Runt - which meant Jack was already attached.  They would deal with that mess later if they decided to have Runt for dinner. Jack would be terribly upset. For now, Runt would have a treat of fish.

Once that was done, he jogged back and found Sadie sitting cross legged on the ground by the fireplace.  She handed him a bowl of beans. “You coulda ate the fish,” she pointed out. “You need it more than I do.”

“Naw.  I’m good with this,” Arthur said and accepted the bowl of beans.  He sat down next to Sadie and had a spoonful of the beans. “So… baby don’t like fish.”

“For now.  It could change, I guess.  That’s what Abigail was tellin’ me.”

Arthur mused as he ate.  “You scared, Sadie?”

“Terrified, Arthur.  I ain’t… so many things could go wrong, you know?  We buildin’ a new house, a new life. And now we brought a baby into this.”

“We did.”  Arthur reached over and squeezed her hand.  “I just wish… it were better circumstances, ya know?  I don’t… I dunno if I’ll be able to hold… to hold my child.  It ain’t fair to you, Sadie. It ain’t.”

“Don’t say that,” Sadie replied lightly.  “You right, it ain’t fair. But this is what we were dealt, Arthur Morgan.  I ain’t gonna give up. And neither should you.”

“I’m here until…” Arthur stopped and pulled his hand away.  He didn’t want to say it out loud. The possibility of Sadie having to raise their child by herself was a difficult thought and he choked on the words. 

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Arthur.  Now, eat up. I was warmin’ some bread, too.” 

Arthur accepted a roll she held out.  He took a deep breath and let out a cough he had been hiding.  He stood and left until the coughing fit was over, and spat out the small bit of blood he could feel in his mouth.  His coughing fits were getting worse by the day, and he hated it. Hated that it was shortening his time with Sadie, and now, his child.  Nevertheless, he went back to the campfire as if it didn’t happen.

Before Sadie left for the night, she gave Arthur a kiss on the cheek.  She respected his wishes of not wanting to be touched, but always made sure to kiss him on the cheek and express her love for him.  Afterwards, Arthur crawled into his tent and stared at his house he never thought he would own - a house he could not live in.

That’s when he realized it had never meant to be.  The outlaw Arthur Morgan would never be allowed happiness, no matter how much he had wanted it.

* * *

The next morning he was woken by John.  He was dressed in only his jeans and a half closed shirt.  “You might wanna come inside,” John said with a worried tone.

“What wrong?” Arthur shot up from his cot and grabbed his pair of jeans.  He had them on in a second and went to follow John to the house barefoot.  

“Sadie woke up pretty bad,” John replied.  Despite John usually having a controlled face, he was frowning.  “Charlotte’s supposed to drop by this mornin’, we might have to ask her what she thinks.  She healed you right?”

“Sadie’s sick?”  Arthur’s body screamed at him to stop moving, to take a break even though he had just woken up. He halted by the front door and coughed into his hand.  Once it was over, he went inside and to Sadie’s room.

Abigail sat in the room and looked slightly pleased to see him.  “So it gotta take Sadie bein’ sick to get you in here, does it?”

“You know I can’t risk spreading the infection - how is she?”

“I’m fine,” Sadie said, though her voice was weak.  Arthur could see sweat on her forehead, her face whiter than usual.  “Just a fever, that’s all.”

“A fever,” Arthur repeated to himself.  “No coughin’?”

Sadie shook her head.  

“The baby?”

“Should be fine.  I ain’t bleedin’, or nothin’.”

“Still, we will keep a close eye on you,” Abigail said and pulled the blanket up close to Sadie’s chin.  “You been workin’ too hard. Your body is tellin’ you to rest.”

Arthur wanted to be right there, to hold her hand.  But he knew to hold off. “Sadie, I’ll run with Charlotte to get you some medicine.  Abigail, please take care of her.”

“You can count on me.”  Abigail smiled at him.

Arthur and Sadie shared one last loving look, with him admiring her chocolate brown eyes, how he loved them and her freckles - then he left to his tent to get dressed.  Charlotte knew of some herbs and where to find them. She’d know what to do.

An hour later, he and Charlotte were on the road meant for Annesburg, though they had no intention of heading that far.  Charlotte had her hair pulled back and a rifle over her shoulder; she had much changed from the city woman Arthur had first met her. 

“It’s just a fever,” Charlotte was saying as she pulled her horse off the side of the road.  They were surrounded by lush forest and all sort of plant life.  “All we gotta do is keep her cool and let it work itself out. Peppermint tea can work wonders with it.  We just gotta find the mint, first.”

“I’ll keep lookin’.”  Arthur wasn’t the best plant forager but had done decent enough in the past.  He walked a ways from Charlotte and led Roy with him, as they tried to comb the area for it.  Peppermint was one of the many items Abigail had talked of growing; she had borrowed a book from Charlotte about planting gardens and had John read it to her.  

Arthur had been enjoying seeing all of them come up with new ideas of how to survive.  Even John had seemed excited. It had taken him awhile to get used to the idea of leaving the van der Linde gang behind, but after awhile, he had embraced being free from the gang.

“There you are,” he murmured as he spied the fragrant mint plant.  He leaned down and started pecking at the stems.

“Arthur Morgan!  Fancy meeting you up here out in the middle of nowhere.”  

Arthur knew that voice and went very still.  He felt a cold object to his chin and looked out of the corner of his eye.  Agent Milton, accompanied by Agent Ross. Ross held his rifle to Arthur’s neck, a wild glint in his eyes.  

“Do I know you?” Arthur asked calmly.  He hoped Charlotte wasn’t around - hoped they hadn’t noticed her with him.  She was nowhere to be seen. He doubted she had turned him in. That wasn’t like her.  

Agent Milton laughed bitterly.  He hadn’t changed - still dressed in a well cut suit of black and red.  Still possessed a manner of pretentiousness. “Oh, come now, Mr. Morgan. No tricks or games this time.  We want Dutch, and you’re gonna help us get him.”

“I ain’t seen him for sometime now.”

“Is that so?”

“‘Fraid so.  Guess you gotta let me go”

Agent Milton regarded him aloofly.  “You ain’t the only van der Linde we caught recently.  Eventually, we will make one of you talk.”

That worried Arthur immensely, yet he kept his poker face.  It could be anyone at this point - everyone was so spread out.  

“Stand up, Mr. Morgan.  You’re coming with us.”

Arthur didn’t like that one bit.  His palms turned sweaty as he readied himself to reach for his pistols.  Adrenaline rushed through him as he grabbed his pistol and aimed it upwards to Ross, only to be met with a rifle butt to the front of his face.  His body gave up way too quickly - his limbs were weak and his reaction time was slow.

He landed backwards and triggered into a coughing fit.  Ross brought down the rifle once more against his face, nearly knocking him senseless.  Once again Arthur found his arms and legs bound and he was tossed onto the back of a horse.  He was nearly dizzy with blood running down his face. 

“Oh my lord!” He heard Charlotte exclaim.  From Arthur’s awkward, upside down point of view, he could see that she looked shocked.

“Oh, I’m sorry ma’am," Agent Ross said.  He took off his hat and smiled. "We did not mean to scare you.  This is a wanted man, part of the dangerous van der Linde gang.”

Charlotte shuddered.  “What’s a man like that doing out here?”

“What’s your name, miss?”

“Charlotte.  Charlotte Balfour.”

Milton and Ross exchanged looks with one another.  “Well, you take care of yourself, now.”

Charlotte nodded briskly and watched them as they departed.  She nodded once as Arthur caught her eye with a promise to run back for help.  Arthur was relieved she hadn’t tried to stop Ross or Milton; she would not have been capable of that.  

One thing Arthur knew: he would fight to escape no matter what it would take, if only to look into Sadie’s eyes one more time.


	20. Chapter 20

Arthur woke up in a poorly lit basement smelling strongly of hops.  Wooden barrels of beer lined one of the walls of the tiny basement. There was a staircase leading to a door across from where he sat. Wherever Arthur was, he didn’t understand why he was there.  He should have been dragged off to an official prison or sheriff’s office, not some basement. Unless Milton had some sort of plan to drag Dutch out and Arthur was the bait. Which had proved fruitless in the past.

He didn’t like his current position.  Last basement he had been in, he had been hung upside down, beaten and tortured.  Arthur currently had his legs bound and his hands tied behind his back, but at least he was still in his woolen jacket, shirt, and jeans.  His boots had been taken off at some point.  

He had a small hacking fit as he laid on his side and spat a mix of spit and blood out. He struggled to sit up so he could lean against the wall.  Chirps sounded from a corner, indicating the basement was invested with rats or other rodents. That would explain the odor, besides the hops.  

There wasn’t much to do but wait.  Sunlight creaked through the door frame, lighting up the dark basement only by a tiny bit.  Arthur barely remembered the ride through the night as it was all a blurry haze. He could still feel crusted blood on his face.  

This would not have happened a few months ago when he had been at his strongest.  He had lost weight and muscle; all his clothing was now loose on him. No matter how hard he had worked on his home, it only made him feel weaker.  His infection had led to this. He was becoming nothing more than a memory of his former self.

He hoped Sadie was okay.  Even though it was just a fever, he was worried she might contract tuberculosis.  She might already have it and not know it. He would have officially ruined all they had worked for. 

The door clicked and partially opened.  Agent Milton stepped through, followed by Agent Ross.  Arthur wanted to wipe their smug look off their faces. They hadn’t won anything yet.

“You haven’t been sounding too good,” Milton pointed out as he stopped in front of Arthur. He put his hands on his belt and regarded the bound man.  “And you don’t look too good from the last time I saw you, either.”

“I’m not much use to you, then, am I?” Arthur groaned out.  His tongue went over the gap where he was missing his back tooth.  He hoped this wouldn’t come to a fistfight where he might lose another one.

“Had we caught you first, you would have been,” Milton replied.  

“Who managed to get caught by you?”

“You would know him.  Micah Bell?” Ross leaned against a barrel and crossed his hands in front of him.  “Quick to talk, that one.”

“We’ll keep you here until we capture Dutch and his men.  Imagine… each van der Linde lined up, one by one…” Milton lifted a hand and waved it slowly through the air as he imagined the scene.  “A noose around each of your necks. It’d be a story for the years to come.”

“But a few men are missing.  One, in particular. A John Marston?” Ross tilted his head.  “You seen him around?”

“I split off from the gang, few months ago.  Ain’t seen no one since.” Arthur kept eye contact, not wanting to get caught in his lie.   “What’s Micah get out of all this?”

“He avoids the noose.  Until he messes up. Which he will.”

Arthur knew then Micah had told Milton and Ross everything of the van der Linde gang.  All their names, identities, most likely their current location. Arthur didn’t even know where Dutch would be. 

“I’ll ask again: Where’s the John Marston?”

“I told you, I ain’t seen him-”

Ross stepped forward and planted a swift kick to Arthur’s chest.  Arthur snapped forwards and groaned as the pressure in his chest doubled.  

Milton straightened his jacket and grabbed gloves from his pocket.  “I’ll leave this part to you, Agent Ross. We don’t have to find out immediately, but don’t kill him.  He looks like he’s ready to die at any moment.” Milton left, his footsteps creaking on the stairs. He shut the door behind him with a soft click.

“This isn’t going to be pleasant for you,” Ross said nonchalantly.  He leaned over and grabbed Arthur by the hair, forcing him to look up at him.  “You can either give up his location, or we work this out the hard way.”

Arthur felt blood and saliva in his throat he had coughed up when he had gotten kicked; he rolled it around his mouth and spat directly into Ross’ face.  It landed partly in Ross’ open mouth and cheek. He recoiled with a growl and let Arthur go.

“I’d go wash if I were you.  Don’t want you to get tuberculosis, now,” Arthur said in between coughs.  

That seemed to only upset Ross.  He aimed another kick to Arthur’s face, which sent him sprawling to his side.  “You think on it, Mr. Morgan,” Ross gritted out. He wiped his face and stomped out.  There was a click as he locked the door. 

Blood dripped from a cut on Arthur’s forehead where the boot had connected.  He laid there for a few minutes, letting his situation sink in. If he hadn’t had to worry about anybody else, he’d just let himself die.  But now, Sadie was at risk. John. Abigail. Even Charlotte, now. She was dragged into this no matter what. Arthur didn’t doubt for a second Milton or Ross would be checking her background.

Luckily, Micah would not have known her name.  She was safe for the time being. 

Arthur sat up once more, his sides burning, and attempted to wiggle his feet.  They were bound tightly and with skill, too. He would not be able to get out without a knife and all his weapons had been taken.  Even the tiny dagger he kept in his boot, which may have been why his shoes were missing.

So he waited until they came back at nightfall with a plate of stale bread and beans.  It was Ross and another man Arthur didn’t know. Just another croney of the government.  

“Let me do my business,” Arthur said as they placed the food down.  “You don’t expect me to hold it, do you?” 

Ross’ eyebrows twitched but he seemed to have been expecting the request.  The croney - a mid-sized man with a hooked nose and thick gut - undid the rope around Arthur’s legs.  Arthur stood and followed Ross out of the basement. The croney had drawn his own gun and kept it pointed to the back of Arthur’s head.

It was a chance to see where he was located.  The outside of the basement was just a forested area, unfamiliar to Arthur.  There was a cabin attached to the basement, small but well kept. Agent Milton stood by the front door of the cabin, holding a map in his hands.  He frowned and went inside. There were only a few more croney’s moving about, all dressed in dark colors and wearing a badge of the Pinkerton Agency. 

They had brought Roy along.  He was hitched with all the other horses.  If Arthur could make a run for it, at least he’d have his fastest horse. 

The croney undid Arthur’s hands.  He turned away from the men and gratefully emptied his bladder; there was nothing worse than being bound and having to use the restroom.  He hoped this wouldn’t become a pattern.

There wasn’t any point in trying to escape then with guns pointed at him.  He let his hands be rebound and he was led back inside to the basement. They bound his legs and left him.  The dinner sat there mocking him. The only way he could eat is if he leaned down and ate like a dog, and he wasn’t quite ready to do that.

Night fell.  Arthur fell asleep easily - his body was more than ready for rest, but it didn’t last long. He was woken up by a hand in his hair, lifting him up and dragging him by his hair and arm.  There was a bucket of water he found his head suddenly submerged into; cold and biting and suffocating at every second.

He hadn’t had time to take a breath - he choked on some water and flailed awkwardly, trying to fight against the hand on the back of his head.  He was lifted out for a split second, only to be forced back down into the water. His lungs screamed at him and his mind started going blank - 

And then he woke up against the floor, his body shivering and gasping for air.  Ross and Milton stood over him, frowns on their faces.  

“You’ll have to… do better,” Arthur choked out.  

“Break his fingers,” Milton suggested. “But don’t overdo it, Ross.”  He put on his hat and left the basement. Apparently, Milton left all the torture for Ross to handle. 

The crooked nose croney grabbed Arthur and untied his hands.  The instance Arthur’s hands were loose, he got a sudden burst of energy and had his hands around the croney’s neck.  The croney gurgled and turned blue in an instant. 

Ross locked an arm around Arthur’s neck and tossed him away.  Arthur landed awkwardly on the floor and scooted himself against the wall.  There wasn’t anything he could use as a weapon. All they had to do was point a gun at him, which they did.

Another croney brought in a thick wooden stump and set it in front of the stairs.  The two croney’s moved forward and grabbed Arthur by the arms and dragged him forward.  What little strength Arthur had was gone as he tried to fight off the croney from placing his right hand on the stump.  He was held there by the two men and his body began to shake as he took in the situation. 

Ross held an iron mallet in his hands.  Arthur hated the look in the agent’s eyes - he was enjoying this.  Enjoying torturing a dying man. This is what the law prided itself on?  

“All you have to do is give up your friend,” Ross said cheerfully.  He leaned down and pressed Arthur’s hand flat against the stump. “Then you won’t have to go through any more pain.”

Arthur breathed harshly through clenched teeth.  “I don’t know where he is, Ross. How about you and Agent Moron go and leave us alone for once?  We ain’t done no harm. We ain’t a gang no more, Ross. Let. it. Be.”

“That isn’t how it works.” Ross spread Arthur’s fingers apart and hovered the hammer over Arthur’s trigger finger.  “It’d be a shame to ruin your hand, no? Harder for you to pick up a gun. But we won’t start there.” Ross grabbed Arthur’s pinky and without another word, he brought down the hammer with extreme force. 

Arthur jerked and couldn’t hold back a yell; his vision went dizzy as waves of pain exploded from his hand.  The hammer had clipped his index finger as well and his body went limp. He went slack in the men’s grip and struggled to breathe.

“Agent Ross, there’s something you need to see,” a man called down.  Arthur blearily looked up and saw the man was dressed like any other croney, except his hair was a fiery red.  “You two as well. Agent Milton needs you - he spied some men approaching.”

“Is it Marston?” Ross said with a grin.  He set aside the hammer and jogged up the stairs without another question.  The two cronies dropped Arthur and followed closely behind.

The croney with the fiery red hair hopped down the stairs and untied the rope around Arthur’s legs.  “You’re behind the eight ball, aren’t you?”

That voice.  That accent. Arthur jolted awake and found himself looking into the pale faced man with the red birthmark on his eye.  Francis Sinclair. Except this Francis had white in his hair and more wrinkles on his face. He was at least a few years older than Arthur, from the looks of it.  But that wasn’t possible.  

“How?” Arthur stuttered.  He was helped to his feet by Francis, who placed Arthur’s arm over his shoulder. 

“My old chap, there just isn’t much time for questions.  What bedevils you? You look under the weather.”

“Tuberculosis.” Arthur spoke in a whisper.

“Ah.  It’s 1899, isn’t it?  How old are you? Late thirties? No matter.  Just a couple hops and a skip and you won’t see me again.” 

The man had always confused Arthur, but he wasn’t about to protest.  He was being rescued by the last person he ever thought to be rescued by.  

He could hear gunfire in the distance but paid it no heed.  It was still several hours until daylight; the moon was hidden behind clouds, making everything seem darker.  Roy was still hitched nearby. Francis Sinclair helped Arthur on and handed him the reins. Roy was anxious to get away.

“Couldn’t thank you in person for those carving locations you sent me.  Was the bee’s knees. This is me repaying you; couldn’t have done it without you, no sir.  You’re not going to meet the big one yet, eh?”

Arthur leaned forward on the horse while Francis gathered up Arthur’s satchel and gun belt and handed it up to him.  Arthur still couldn’t comprehend what was going on as he belted his pistols and shrugged on his satchel. His two fingers ached something awful and his body was screaming at him, but he figured he could ride for a few hours until he was safely away.

Francis reached out and shook Arthur’s left hand.  “Look to the sun. I can’t tell you when. You won’t see me again.  Now get a wiggle on.” He took a step back and smacked Roy on the rear.  

Arthur looked back as Roy was galloping away.  Francis was gone, replaced by Murfrees who began swarming the cabin.  That would explain the gunfire. Arthur was still in the Roanoke Ridge if the Murfrees were here.  He didn’t want to get followed by them. He urged Roy to go faster and he disappeared north towards where he thought was home.

It took a few hours of following random signs toward Annesburg until Arthur recognized the road towards his home.  Everything seemed to happen in a blur. As the sun rose, a thick fog covered the road, sending a chill down his spine.  He was unsure if the Pinkertons or the Murfrees followed him and there was not a way to tell if he was being followed.  

Not that anyone could, in this fog.  Arthur kept a strong pace, intent on reaching his home by early afternoon.  He was ready to lose himself under a thick spread of blankets with Sadie in his arms.  He stopped by a creek and made sure to wet his face of the blood. If he passed anyone on the road, he didn’t want to stand out.

Luckily, the fog seemed to keep everyone at bay.  He made it to the path of his property and followed it, his heart dancing at the thought of being home.  His house still stood proud on the hill surrounded by tall trees, looking like a picture out of a storybook, with its garden and fences and the pond at the bottom of the hill.

The fog seemed to dissipate as he approached the house.  Sadie stood at the front door of the cabin in her pants and dark yellow shirt.  Her hair was pulled back and she had a pistol on her hip, plus a rifle over her shoulder.  She was ready to fight.

She set aside her rifle once she caught sight of Arthur and ran to meet him halfway down the path.  Arthur hopped off with the intent of scooping her up, but nearly toppled over as a wave of dizziness swept over him.  Sadie was in his arms in an instant, supporting his weight and giving him a bone crushing hug.  

“I’m back,” he choked out.  She only hugged him tighter in response.

* * *

A day later the two sat on a bench by the pond, a blanket over their laps.  Arthur’s hand had been bound and set, though Charlotte had been unsure if his fingers would ever bend again.  They had been smashed heavily and only time would tell if they would heal.

When Arthur had been taken, Charlotte had run back to grab John and Charles, who had set out for Annesburg with Charles.  Sadie had been too sick to travel and had only just recuperated from the fever. She had been about to set out after John when Arthur had returned.

Arthur hadn’t told her much yet.  He had slept for many hours and drank a bit of whiskey for the pain in his fingers.  It was only that morning the two were alone, listening to the birds chirp and the frogs croak at the pond.

“I need to find Dutch,” Arthur began with a sigh.  Sadie was leaning against him with his arms wrapped around her.  Arthur had protested being so close, but she had won the fight. “Micah ratted him out.  I can’t leave Dutch to the Pinkertons.”

“You should, but I know you ain’t like that.” Sadie looked up to him, then back to the pond.  Fall had set in the trees and the red and brown leaves had begun to fall one by one. Two ducks floated by in the pond, unphased by the presence of humans.  “Wait for John and Charles to return, then we’ll all go.”

“It’s a fool’s game.  I know Dutch won’t listen to me.”

“But once the Pinkertons find him, he’ll know you be right.”

“Or Micah would say I’m the rat.”

“Who’s he gonna trust?  Micah or you?”

Arthur gave her a hard stare.  “You were with us the last few months weren’t you?  It was always Micah, ever since he showed.”

Sadie scoffed.  “It ain’t right.”

“I need to find Hosea, otherwise.  If he ain’t with Dutch… Micah still might know where he is.  He coulda told the Pinkertons. I need to make sure Hosea is safe.”

“Mmm,” Sadie murmured.  She closed her eyes and together they just sat on the bench, content to be in each other’s arms.  “Say, Arthur. What do you want?”

Arthur kissed her on top of her head.  “You.”

“You oaf, not me.  A boy or a girl?”

Arthur paused.  “Well, I don’t right know.  I ain’t thought about it too hard, since… you know.”

“You allowed to think of it.  You helped create it.”

“I did?  Maybe we should act it out, help me remember.” Arthur rubbed his beard against her neck.

Sadie laughed and squealed, “ Arthur Morgan !  Be serious!”

Arthur wished he could act on his joking.  He wanted nothing more than to make love to Sadie, to caress her and care for her.  Yet he could still feel the infection in his lungs, the weakness in his limbs. It was never far away.  He sobered up and let out a defeated sigh. “How about both?”

“I ain’t carryin’ two.  I hope.”

“A girl, I guess. Someone as spirited as you.”

“I wouldn’t mind a girl.  How about a name?”

“Hmmm.  First name comes to mind is Beatrice, after my own ma.”

“We’ll put it on the list.  Was she a good ma?”

“She loved me.  I don’t remember much, but… it’s enough.”

They were quiet for a few moments.  Sadie absently played with a loose string at the edge of her sleeve.  They could hear Jack laugh up at the house and Abigail’s soft laughter joining in.  It had been awhile since Arthur had heard such a pleasant, peaceful sound.  

“What about you?” Arthur asked her.  “What name would you want?”

“Still thinkin’ about it.  Too many to choose from, ya know?”

Arthur lowered his left hand and settled it over her stomach.  She had mentioned her pants were just the tiniest bit tighter and had complained one night how she would have to go back to skirts because she would soon outgrow the pants, but Arthur didn’t mind that.  He liked how she looked in skirts, though her in pants made his heart flutter. Give her a pair of pants and a pistol and the whole world was hers.

It still astounded him that they had created a child - though he had accepted the possibility from the very beginning.  Under better circumstances, it would have been the perfect life.

But John and Charles appeared on the path then, their faces shocked to see Arthur.  They rode their horses closer to the pond and stepped off. Sadie wrapped the blanket around herself and held tight to Arthur’s hand as they stood up to greet them.

“You escaped?” John asked, his face full of relief.  His scarred face had dark bags under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept.

“I did, with the help of an old friend.  It was Agent Milton and Ross who got me. They didn’t follow me back, so we still safe here,” Arthur said.  

John and Charles shared a look.  “We know where Dutch is,” Charles said with a frown.  “Ran into Javier. Said they’re up near here at a Beaver’s Hollow.  Just a half a day’s ride from here.”

“It don’t sound good,” John added.  “Even Javier sounded worried.”

Arthur had figured this would be the case.  “Micah ratted them out to the Pinkertons. I gotta let Dutch know before they get to him.”

John gave a firm nod.  “We’ll ride with you.”

“Good.  We’ll ride out come mornin’.“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy smokes! Twenty chapters! Thanks for sticking with the story! I sincerely wish you readers are enjoying this. ☺️


	21. Chapter 21

Beaver Hollow was nestled in the heart of the Murfree gang territory, though according to John and Charles, the Murfree gang had taken quite a hit from Dutch and his men. The Murfree gang was scattered - hence why they might have attacked the Pinkertons.  Beaver Hollow used to be their hideout, where they took their victims. It did not sound pleasant. It had been the Murfree gang that had killed Cal Balfour - Arthur had no love or pity for that gang. Dutch had actually done something good for once.

It was a beautiful country, nonetheless.  It reminded Arthur of his home, with the lush tall trees and rolling hills.  Yet it made him nervous, having to meet Dutch again, who would not be happy to see Arthur return.  But if Hosea was gone, this was the only way of finding out where he was.  

That, and he had to tell Dutch that Micah was a rat.  Somehow.  

Arthur led the four of them around the mountain path that led to Beaver Hollow.  He was expecting to see a scout at any moment, and lo and behold, Bill shouted, “Who goes there?!”

“It’s me, Arthur!” Arthur called out.  Bill looked the same as usual, if a little worn and a bit more beer-bellied.  Bill didn’t look exactly amused Arthur was there and Arthur didn’t blame him.  

The camp was set up with several large tents and one table, with an entrance to a cave at the base of the hill.  Notably lacking was Grimshaw’s tent, though Pearson’s wagon was still there. There were at least six men Arthur didn’t know standing around camp, guns in their hands and looking ready to shoot at any moment.  Cleet and Joe were in the mix, though Arthur still couldn’t tell who was who.  

Dutch sat at the largest tent, the fabric pulled back to reveal a table and some chairs inside.  He was pouring over a map and looked startled once he saw the new company. He set aside his cigar and went to go meet with Arthur.  Despite living amongst a camp of newfound ruffians who didn’t know how to bathe properly, Dutch still managed to look pristine with his black pants, black shirt, with a crisp red and black vest.  

As luck would have it, Micah did not seem to be with the camp. Arthur dismounted his horse and waited for Dutch to greet him.  He had tried to dress his best that day, with dark pants, pressed white shirt, and white vest. He wore a leather jacket on top - there was a mountain chill in the air that day. 

John went to go stand by Arthur, which he was grateful for.  Dutch’s old proteges had returned. 

“John!  Arthur, son.  What’s happened to you?” Dutch asked as he stopped a few feet from him.  “You don’t seem yourself.”

“I ain’t, but that’s not the point.  Can I speak to you, in private?” Arthur motioned toward the cave.

“Sure.  Follow me.”  Dutch sounded skeptical, but willing to talk.  

That was a positive in Arthur’s point of view.  He looked back to Sadie and Charles. “Wait here.”  Sadie gave a firm nod in response. They hadn’t dismounted from their horses.

“You’ll have to excuse the mess.  The Murfree’s were not so kind in giving this up,” Dutch said and motioned to a mess of blood at the entrance of the cave.  They only made it to the front of the cave, just out of everybody’s hearing. “Javier told me you lot might be coming. I hadn’t thought it would be so soon.”

“I don’t see everybody,” John stated as he looked back over the camp.  “Pearson? Ms. Grimshaw? Karen?”

“Gone. Couldn’t see the bigger picture.  Nobody left besides Bill, Javier, Micah, and myself.  Does that make you happy?” Dutch asked, his voice sour.

“No, it don’t.  I don’t like seein’ the gang like this - but that ain’t what we are here for.  Where’s Hosea?” Arthur asked. 

Dutch’s eyes turned to steel.  “Somewhere to the Grizzlie’s East.  Wouldn’t tell me. He was the last one to leave.  We’ve been so close to money, real money, Arthur. But every time we almost had it, people left!”  

“And I’m sorry to hear that.  But you should know somethin’.” Arthur shuffled his feet and coughed lightly into his hand.  “Pinkertons will be comin’. They got me a couple days ago - I managed to escape. But they told me Micah ratted you out-”

“Oh, Arthur, get real.  Micah is the ONLY one who ever believed in my plan!” Dutch exclaimed.  “You expect me to believe this? You always hated him.”

“No.  I did not expect you to believe it,” Arthur affirmed.  He adjusted his vest and looked at John. “That’s all we came here for.  We ain’t gonna try to convince ya. But we can say we tried. We owe you that much.”  

“Is that all you came for?” 

“Pretty much,” John replied.  “We got families, Dutch. It ain’t all games anymore.”

A lone scream sounded from the cave, startling the two of them.  Dutch seemed unphased. “Do me a favor, then. There’s a woman in there the Murfree’s had locked up.  She’s rabid and has refused our help.”

“Did you even offer her any?” Arthur growled.  “And can you blame her? The men you recruited ain’t much better than any of those Murfrees!”

“Don’t overstep, Arthur.  You’re in my camp. Don’t overstay your welcome,” Dutch warned and backed off.  

“Christsakes,” Arthur muttered.  “Would you mind grabbin’ Sadie, John?  It might help if a woman’s there for her.  I’ll head in first.” He went to the cavern wall and grabbed a lantern, then made his way into the cave.  He was furious. Arthur could care less about the Murfree’s - the fact Dutch hadn’t even bothered to rescue an enslaved woman showed just how much Dutch only cared for himself.  

The cave was an unlit, winding path of twists and turns.  Arthur went slow, not sure of what was still lurking in the shadows.  There was one lone light at the end of the cave, down a slope, where the woman must be located.  Arthur skirted down the slope and made his way towards a wooden cage. There was a sickening stench of human waste and death in the air.  More empty cages were stacked against each other, thankfully all empty.  

The woman was huddled in a corner, her head on her knees as she sobbed loudly.  There was a key on a table right next to the cage; Dutch hadn’t even bothered unlocking it.  Or had left it so the other men could have access. Arthur angrily set the lantern on the table and grabbed the key.

“You okay?” Arthur asked as he went to unlock the door.

The woman answered with a piercing scream.  Arthur’s heart sunk once he realized how young she actually was.  She was just a young girl, no older than fifteen or sixteen. He could see she was only dressed in her underclothing, which was torn and bloodied in places.  She bore bruises on her arms and face and it suddenly felt like deja vu. It was like finding Sadie all over again. Yet this time, Dutch hadn’t bothered to save her.  She had nothing to offer Dutch. Nothing for him to gain.

“I ain’t gonna hurt you,” Arthur said as he opened the lock.  He swung open the door and took a few steps back. “I can take you home, if you want.”

She only hugged herself tighter and sobbed in her corner.  If Dutch let any of the men touch her - Arthur could feel his blood boiling at the thought of it.  How far had Dutch really fallen?

A hand rested on his shoulder and he turned to see Sadie.  She looked clearly upset with tears in her eyes. “This ain’t right,” she whispered.  “I’m just as angry as you, Arthur. Dutch will answer for this later.” Sadie left him and kneeled by the opening of the cage.  “I’m Sadie, Sadie Adler. This man here is my… intended. We ain’t a part of the gang outside, but they lettin’ us take you home.  Where do you live?”

The girl sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand.  “An-Annesburg.”

“You got family?”

“My ma.”

Sadie nodded and held out a hand. “We’ll take you home.  Can you walk just fine?” 

The girl got to her feet slowly and stumbled a bit.  Sadie went to catch her and helped her out, though the girl struggled to stay on her feet.  The underclothing did little for her modesty. Arthur shrugged off his jacket and placed it around the girl’s shoulders, then scooped her up.  Even though Arthur had lost a lot of strength, the girl was still nothing as if she were a pile of feathers.  

Sadie grabbed a lantern and they left the cave together.  John waited at the entrance, his hand on his pistol. He shoulders relaxed a little once he saw them.  “Where to?” he asked.

“Annesburg.” Arthur went to the middle of the camp where Charles still waited on his horse.  He went over to him and lifted the girl to sit in front of Charles. “He’s a good man, miss. You don’t have to worry about him.”

“What’s your name?” Charles asked.

“Meredith,” she responded, her voice quiet.  She shut her eyes and dug her face into Charles’ chest.  “Get me out of here, oh please.”

The rest of them got on their horses and started leaving, the glares of the unknown men following them out.  Arthur waited to follow, then said one last thing to Dutch. “I loved you like a father, Dutch. But you ain’t the same man I once knew.”

Dutch stood at his tent with his arms crossed, his face dark.  “I haven’t changed, Arthur.”

“Maybe you ain’t, and I’m just seein’ you for who you really are, for the first time.  You lost your priorities somewhere, Dutch. And I ain’t gonna wait for you to get straight.”

“You have proven that already.”

Arthur didn’t know what else to say.  He clicked for Roy to move forward, and soon he caught up with Sadie and the others.  Arthur didn’t like the fact that Micah had been missing. It either proved that Micah was working for the Pinkertons, or Micah just happened to be out.  Either way, Arthur did what he had wanted to do.  

Only thing left was to find Hosea.  The Grizzlies East was a wild, mountainous area.  Perfect for hiding away from everyone, which was most likely his goal.  As it was already October, winter would set in soon and if there was snow, the journey through the Grizzlies would be difficult.  Had Arthur been in better health, he’d consider making the trip out. He would talk it over with Sadie later and see what they could do about it.

They arrived in Annesburg late that night and stopped in front of Meredith’s house.  It was a square house plastered in a row of other houses - all homes for the miners. Arthur hopped off his horse and went to lift Meredith down.  She was pale and still too weak to stand, but she’d survive. Sadie knocked on the door and they waited anxiously for it to open.

It creaked open and a woman peeked through the crack.  She suddenly gasped and the door flung open. “Meredith!”  It was obvious the older woman had been crying, as her eyes were red.  She went down the steps briskly to meet her. “Heavens above, you’re alive!”

“Hi, ma,” Meredith said tiredly.  She held out her hand to her mother, who took it and let out a sob.  She led them up the few stairs and into the house.  

“Set her here,” the mother said, pointing to a bed in the corner of the tiny house.  

Arthur set her down tenderly and turned to leave.

“Wait, mister.” Meredith sat up and shrugged out of the jacket he had given her.  “This is yours.”  

“Thank you, miss.  You take care now.”  Arthur accepted the jacket and tipped his hat to her.  He went outside and pulled on the jacket. Now that it was dark and they were by the bay, there was a strong, cold breeze and he had been missing his jacket immensely.

Sadie pulled the mother aside.  “The Murfree gang had her. They gone now, but....” she looked to where Meredith had snuggled up under the covers.  “They done things to her. It ain’t gonna be easy for her.”

The mother’s eyes welled up with tears.  “I’ll take care of her. Thank you so much.”  She dug into her skirts and pulled out a bracelet.  “I don’t have much, but take this. Please.”

“We don’t need it, ma’am.” Arthur pulled Sadie down the steps and to the horses.  He could see the family didn’t have much to survive on. There were makeshift beds in the house and children’s playthings jammed in the tiny house - that family already had too many mouths to feed.  “Let’s make our way home.”

* * *

The group had made a quick camp on the outskirts of Annesburg, not wanting to ride another few hours home.  Then they had woken early and set off just as the sun began to rise. It was a cold morning and everyone had slept poorly.  They only made small conversation. It wasn’t until they made it back home and sat in Arthur’s living room where they discussed what the plan was.

“I’ll go find Hosea,” Charles said.  He held a cup of coffee in his hands.  “If only to find out where he’s living.”

“Thank you, I’d appreciate that,” Arthur remarked.  He stood by the front door, dressed in thick pants and his heavy jacket.  He would be hard at work preparing the house for winter, meaning lots of firewood.  They had a proper stove and fireplace now, thanks to Charlotte, which would be useful come winter.  

“Do you want me to invite him to live here?”

“It’s up to him,” Arthur said with a grimace.  “He might not even be well enough to travel. We won’t know until you find him.  For now…” he looked around the room at everyone. “We just keep tryin’ to make this work round here.  John and I can work on can work on buildin’ more fences. Might grab another pig or two, within a week.”

“What’s our goal, here?  What do you wanna do with this place?” John asked.  He sat on the new blue couch in the room with Abigail, his legs crossed and a glass of whiskey in his hand.  

“Well… I dunno.  Might buy some horses from Kieran, run my own stable.  He might be able to get me some horses with legit papers.  Start breedin’ them. If there’s anythin’ I know best besides fightin’, it’s horses.  Gotta get lumber for a stable down the road.”

“Huh.”  John took a sip of his drink.  “We got lucky with that money from the O’Driscolls.  I admit, it’s been odd, stayin’ in one place. Sleepin’ in a bed.”

Abigail put a hand on his knee and smiled at him. “It’s been nice.  John and I were thinkin’ of buying our own land, not too far from here.”

“But those Pinkertons are awfully close, and they know us by name,” John said. “I ain’t committin’ to anythin’ until I know it’s safe to live here.  I know this is your house and land, Arthur. But you gotta admit you worried, too.”

Arthur scratched his beard in thought.  “I hope that won’t be the case. We will lay low - Dutch is distractin’ enough as it is for the Pinkertons.  They only got lucky with me.”

“Let’s hope so.”

“Arthur… we were talkin’,” Abigail began.  “It’s gettin’ cold outside. We don’t want you to sleep out there anymore.  If you won’t sleep in your room, sleep on the couch.”

“I don’t wanna get you sick,” Arthur disagreed.  “I won’t. Besides, I can handle it out there. Plenty of blankets.”

“The cold weather is only going to make it worse.”

“No.  I ain’t gonna do that.  Excuse me.” Arthur put on his hat and exited the house.  He appreciated that they were willing to let him sleep in the house.  He just couldn’t risk it, especially in close confines. If one of them got sick… Arthur wouldn’t be able to forgive himself.  He wouldn’t change his mind.


	22. Chapter 22

The days started repeating themselves.  Arthur would wake up early in the morning, dress and eat what he could.  His appetite was beginning to fade and his waist began to show it. He couldn’t wear his pants without his suspenders anymore and he hated seeing himself in a mirror, less he see his harrowed face.  He avoided them at all cost.  

He would then set to work with feeding the chickens, pigs, and horses.  Jack would trail him and watch him from a safe distance, claiming he wanted to learn how to farm like his Uncle Arthur.  It was as close Arthur would allow Jack to get to him. He would not be responsible for getting Jack sick.

Arthur’s fingers healed to the point where they could partially bend and he quickly learned how to work around it.  He could still hold a pistol easily enough, but his grip was less secure. He took his time practicing shooting with his right and left hand.  He didn’t want to get rusty, now that he wasn’t taking up the outlaw life.  

The horses’ fence was finished, meaning they could free roam about the property.  They had easy access to the pond and plenty of grass to eat. Maybe in the future Arthur could buy the land next to him and expand the horses’ enclosure, but it was a dream for another day.  He had already marked out where the stable would go, and had leveled out the ground as best he could. Once the winter passed, that was his next goal.

Then there were the odd bits of time where he had nothing to work on.  He found himself doodling in his journal more, drawing of the older Francis Sinclair and writing random thoughts down of just how Francis might be old.  All Arthur could think of was magic, but he quickly buried that thought as how silly it was.  

His tent now consisted of a cot, a wooden chair, table, and his chest.  He still kept the good luck charm by his bed, one of the only memories of his mother.  It was a flower that only grew back in Oregon and Washington. The next time he traveled over there, he would pick one up.  He suspected that could be awhile.

Sadie and Charlotte had taken it upon themselves to teach Abigail to read, as well as teaching Jack.  Hosea had been teaching Jack the past year and it only felt necessary to continue those lessons. They had also taken up knitting, Abigail for the most part, and now Arthur sported a warm red scarf and matching gloves.  Apparently she was also working on a matching set for John, who had refused from the start.

October slowly turned into November, and with it, the first snow fell.  They had taken the time to buy winter clothing for everyone and proper socks, boots, and jackets.  Despite the warm clothing, the cold air bit through Arthur’s bones, sapping his strength faster than ever.  It turned into most mornings he would wake up in a coughing fit and uncontrollable shivers. It seemed no matter how many blankets and jackets he would wear, he always seemed cold.

The second day of snow, he finally gave in and went inside to warm up.  Sadie nearly jumped at the sight of him as she moved about the kitchen. She was dressed in a white frilly shirt and blue skirt.  Her golden hair was partly pulled back by a ribbon, while the rest fell down her back like a waterfall. It had gotten long to the point where she had been talking of cutting it.  Either way, Arthur loved her hair, long or short.  

She had taken to visiting Arthur every morning and they would share every single meal, though Arthur still refused to touch her for long periods of time. 

Despite this, she was all smiles when she saw him. “Hey,” she gleamed and walked over to him.  She kissed him lightly on the cheek and led him towards the kitchen table. The inside of the home still felt foreign to Arthur, like he wasn’t supposed to be there and it wasn’t actually his.  He sat down and held out his hands toward the fireplace.

“John and Abigail left with Jack to Annesburg to pick up some supplies.  The house is ours for the day.”  

“Oh?  I didn’t even see them leave.”  

“They’re hopin’ there’s gonna be a letter from Charles, too.  It’s been awhile since we heard from ‘im.” Sadie grabbed the coffee pot off the stove and poured a cup for Arthur.  “Here, drink this. You look like you’re freezin’.”

Arthur accepted the coffee and took a sip.  It warmed all the way down to his stomach and he felt himself relax a bit.  “You’re four months along today, ain’t ya?” Arthur asked and looked to her stomach.

Sadie scooted a chair next to him and sat down.  “That’s right.” 

“Can I?” Arthur moved his hand forward, wanting to touch her slightly bigger stomach.  

“Silly, ‘course you can.  You don’t even have to ask.” Sadie lightly grabbed his hand and laid it softly against her stomach.  “She’s a fighter. You feel that?”

“Woah!” Arthur felt a hard bump against his hand.  “Did she just start doin’ that?”

Sadie beamed with pride.  “Yes. She woke me up this mornin’ with it.”

“That’s amazin’.”  Arthur kept his hand there in hopes of feeling another kick.  There was a smaller one, then she seemed to settle down. Arthur pulled away and grabbed Sadie’s hand. He ran a finger over her knuckles and paused over the ring finger. “You still doin’ okay?”

“Surprisingly.  Abigail kept sayin’ how jealous she was that I hadn’t gotten morning sickness… but fish still makes me sick.  There’s that.”

“That ain’t too bad.  We can get by without fish.”

“How about you?  We got a few inches of snow again, it looks like.”

“I’m fine.  Just a bit cold in the mornin’, that’s all.”  Arthur let go of Sadie’s hand and focused on his coffee.  He didn’t know why, but he thought of the ring Mary had given him.  Arthur had been engaged, once, and that had ended up terribly. Now Arthur could do it again, but he’d make Sadie a widow once more.  He hadn’t bothered thinking of it, once he learned how sick he was. He couldn’t do that to Sadie. She deserved so much more.

Sadie leaned closer and tapped Arthur on the nose.  “Hey, Morgan. Your nose is all scrunched up. Whatchu thinkin’ about?”

“Aw. You know, this and that.  The ranch.”

“Thinkin’ up names for it?”

Arthur dug out his journal from his satchel and set it on the table.  He had actually been thinking up names just the other day. He wanted to make a sign at the start of the path to their house.  He opened to the page he had written his ideas and passed it along for Sadie to read.

She smiled as she read it.  “Camp Morgan? Adler Ranch? Outlaw’s Reach?  Don’t you think that too obvious?”

Arthur chuckled.  “Maybe.”

“Let’s see… Saddleback Road.  Mustang Landing. Fool’s Hope?  Is that what you thought this place was?”

“Still is,” Arthur said with a shrug.  “I’m a fool, that’s for sure.”

Sadie closed the journal and stood to kiss him on his forehead.  “I don’t know why, but I’m keen on that one. Shall we make a sign for it?  We got some paint in the shed.”

“Sure.”  

The two ate their breakfast and set to work on the signpost.  Arthur had already cut it out and stuck the posts on the road.  All that was left was the letters, and it would be good to go. They spread out a blanket and laid down the sign.  Sadie grabbed the paint and gave it a good stir, then handed the paintbrush to Arthur.

“You have the better handwriting.  I’ve seen enough of your journal,” she said.

“I’ll only mess it up, but…” Arthur grabbed the paintbrush and contemplated the sign.  Fool’s Hope. He took his time in writing and made sure each letter was perfect. He had already practiced writing it in his journal several times.  Fool’s Hope flowed in cursive and had a delicate line connecting the two words. As he finished the last letter, he couldn’t help but feel pleased with himself.  

Sadie leaned over him and rubbed her hands against his shoulders.  “Looks good.”

“Has to dry, but we can hang it up in the mornin’.”  

“Shall we head over to Charlotte’s?  I knitted her a scarf that I been meanin’ to give to her.  It’s been a week since she visited.”

“Sure.  I’m up for a ride.” Arthur went to close the paint can and went outside to clean the brush at the well.  Whoever had lived there before him had had a well dug. The bushes had grown up to cover it by the time Arthur had moved in, and he had been pleasantly surprised to find it.  It was up an overgrown trail hidden by the trees and a tiny walk from the house. The well was still in working condition; Arthur had cleaned it up a little and built a new pulley system.

After the paintbrush was cleaned, Arthur changed into his warmest clothing and brushed his hair behind his ears.  It had been awhile since he had last had a haircut. Maybe Sadie or Charlotte would be willing. He had let his beard grow out because of winter and he spent a few minutes shaping it into something presentable.  Lastly, he wore one of the scarves Sadie had knitted for him, gold in color and thick enough to hold back a winter chill.

He met Sadie at the front of the house.  She had changed into a fleece lined jacket and had a shawl tied around her shoulders.  The pants she owned no longer fit, so she was back to living in skirts. Her hair was let loose and she wore a simple cap over her ears.  Already the winter chill had made her nose turn red; Arthur was tempted to kiss it, but held back.

They took only Roy, with Sadie sitting behind Arthur with her arms wrapped around him.  Arthur took his time heading to Charlotte’s. He was just enjoying being close to Sadie and feeling her body next to his.  He missed it, as he always did.

The coughing was sporadic that day which he was grateful for.  There had been a couple days in the past where he hadn’t been able to do anything besides cough and lay in bed.  Despite having woken up with coughs and shivers, Arthur was beginning to feel a little bit like his old self.

“Remember those months ago when we found that serial killer?” Arthur asked her.

“Just thinkin’ of that man gives me the creeps.” Sadie hugged her arms tighter around Arthur.

“That was also the first night we were together.”

“I remember that part fondly, yes.”

“You said you might regret it, that first night.  Do you?”

Sadie scoffed.  “Christ, no. Ever since you kissed me I realized how much I was fond of ya.  You was handsome… had a bit of a temper, like me. You was loyal... to a fault.  You cared too much. I liked everythin’ about you and you was hard to resist.”

“Naw. You flatter me.”

“I’m just glad we got out.  Despite everythin’, Arthur, we got lucky.  We’ll ignore the TB. That don’t count. We takin’ care of each other and that’s what matters.”

“You think of any new names for the baby?”

“Hmm…” Sadie mused.  “A little. But none that I overly like.  What if it’s a boy? Would you like to name him after anyone?”

“No… maybe. Dutch ain’t worth it no more, and Hosea ain’t gone yet.  Micah’s a name only a ma could love, and anybody else don’t deserve it.  Maybe Sean. He was… gone too soon.” Arthur still felt bad he hadn’t been there to save Sean.  Perhaps, even then, it would not have meant to be. “If anythin’, I’d like the name to be simple, no bad thoughts attached to it.”

“Agreed.”

“It’ll be good for Jack to have a friend close to his age.  Someone to play with.”

“You think Abigail and John would have anymore children?”

“Well...  they had plenty of times where they coulda started one.  I guess it just depends if they can.”

“How many you want, Arthur?”

Arthur narrowed his eyes in thought.  He had never dreamed that far ahead. “Maybe two or three.  If we bein’ optimistic. I’d… we’d… hard to say, Sadie, if we ever be able to-”

“We will.  Trust me.”

“You awfully optimistic.  Why?”

“Call it…” Sadie pondered.  “A ma’s intuition.” 

“You plannin’ on takin’ me right here?”

Sadie laughed and lightly smacked his shoulder in jest.  “Not now, but just you wait, Morgan. I’ll have my way with you yet.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

They continued down the road in high spirits, chattering back and forth about random things.  Arthur felt lighter now that he had gotten away from his tent and wished he could do this more often.  He had been so distracted with fixing his ranch and avoiding the house, he had nearly forgotten what it was like to simply socialize and not worry about anything.  

It was short lived.  As they neared Charlotte’s path, something seemed off and he instantly snapped to attention.  The snow leading up to and around Charlotte’s house was undisturbed. It had snowed the past two days and left several inches - it would have been disturbed in some shape or form.  But nothing. Her horse was still at the small stable, though it pranced around anxiously in his stall. 

“How long it been since we seen Charlotte?  A week?” Arthur asked.

“Yes, about so.”

Arthur hopped off the horse and helped Sadie down.  “You stay here. I’ll check the house, see if she’s okay.”  Charlotte would have stepped outside for the outhouse, but the snow leading up to it was flawless.

He pulled out his pistol and made his way cautiously to the front door.  He rapped on it a few times and called her name. No answer. He waited another moment, then pushed open the door.  The cabin was poorly lit with the drapes drawn, but his eyes quickly adjusted and his heart sank. There had been a scuffle in the cabin.  Charlotte’s table was turned over on its side, books were everywhere and glasses were shattered. Her rifle was on the floor with bullets scattered around.

There was a lack of blood, which made him feel just a little bit better.  It meant she was alive. But also alive and left to the horrors of whoever had taken her.  It could have been the Murfree gang back again, but Arthur wasn’t convinced. He searched the house and looked for clues and found nothing, until he caught sight of a letter pinned on the door with a knife.

He plucked off the knife and used it to tear open the letter.  The handwriting was crude but legible.  

_ “We have Charlotte Balfour.  She is being held for ransom at Beaver Hollow.  Come and she won’t be harmed. Oh, and bring John and Abigail Marston and the Mrs. Adler.  They won’t want to miss this. - Micah.” _

“Micah?” Arthur muttered as he crumpled up the paper.  “What is he playin’ at? Held for ransom?” He guessed the Pinkertons hadn’t gotten Dutch quite yet.  He was relieved to hear it, but appalled Dutch would ever hold an innocent woman for ransom.  

There was no way Arthur would be bringing John and Sadie into this.  Not when they had families. It was time to escort Sadie home and prepare for a possible gunfight. 

Arthur stormed out and furiously grabbed a lead for Charlotte’s horse.  The poor thing had been kept in a stable for too long - he would bring it back to Fool’s Hope and take care of it until he got Charlotte back.  

“She’s still alive,” Arthur bit out as he tied the lead around the horse.  “But bein’ held for ransom.”

Sadie gasped and held her hand to her mouth.  “Christ. Is she okay, do you know?”

“No.  But I’m gonna go after her.”

“I’ll go with you-”

“No!” Arthur roared, then turned away to cough furiously into his hand.  He grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket to cough into and tried not be alarmed at the amount of blood that stained it.  He leaned against the stable, waiting for the dizziness to pass. He could feel Sadie’s hand rubbing his back.  

“I can help,” she was saying. 

“No.  Sadie, _ please _ .  No.”  Arthur wiped his mouth and folded the handkerchief before he put it back in his pocket.  “You are carryin’ our child,” he said, his voice cracking. “I can’t let you. I couldn’t bear to lose both of you, if things go wrong.”

That seemed to make her hesitate.  “What if we wait for John to return?”

“No.  He has a family.  I ain’t bringin’ him into this.”

“You can’t fight this all on your own!” 

“Yes, I can!  This is my fight.  Sadie, please.” He led her to Roy and lifted her on to sit.  He got on in front of her and led them home, Charlotte’s horse following them from behind. He could feel Sadie’s anger as she held tight to him.  “This is for the best. Charlotte needs someone now, and I can’t wait for John to show up.”  

“This ain’t right.  It’s too risky. Who took her?”

Arthur supposed it couldn’t hurt.  “Micah.”

“Are they still at Beaver Hollow?”

“That’s all I’m gonna tell you.  I don’t want you or John followin’ me.  I can handle this.”

Sadie snorted in frustration, but turned quiet.  

They made it to Fool’s Hope in record time. Arthur road up to the front door and hopped off the horse, then helped Sadie down.  Once she was on the ground, she pushed him away and stomped inside, her face flushed with anger.  

Arthur felt bad, but he was going to stand firm.  He put Charlotte’s horse in the pasture, then went to his tent to switch hats.  He grabbed his father’s hat, which he always wore before heading to a fight. Pink and green caught his eye as he went through his tent.  He stopped and picked up the flower his mother always told him to keep. Normally, he left it behind, but he needed all the luck he could get.  He put it in his satchel and went to the house.  

Sadie had pulled out all his rifles and set them on the dinner table.  

“You know this is a trap, right?  If Micah’s a rat, he just tryin’ to get to you.” Sadie was livid and refused to meet his gaze.

Arthur picked up his bandolier and shrugged it on.  It was already prepped with bullets in the loops. Next, he grabbed his rifle and shotgun, made sure they were cleaned and prepared, then put them over his shoulder.  He was silent as he gathered more bullets to put in his belt. Sadie’s gaze was burning into him and when he was finally ready, he met her gaze.

“I gotta do this.  We dragged Charlotte into this life.  I ain’t gonna let her die for us.”

“I know.”  Sadie wiped at her eyes.  “I know I can’t stop you.”

“Here.” Arthur dug into his satchel and pulled out the flower.  He grabbed Sadie’s hand and put the flower in her palm. “This is my good luck charm.  You keep it with you.”

“No.  Keep it with you.” Sadie pushed his hand back.  “You gonna need it more than me.”

“I’ll be back, Sadie.” Arthur stared down at her, wanting more than ever to kiss her. 

Sadie leaned up and did just that, planting her lips directly on his.  They were hesitant at first, but Arthur pulled her closer and covered her in hard kisses, her lips soft and inviting and so full of love - Arthur broke away abruptly.  “I love you.” He gave her one last kiss and was out the door before he heard her response.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated/deleted tags and relationships, since story headed in another direction than I originally planned.

It had started snowing again as Arthur approached the rocky path that led to Beaver Hollow.  He was slightly irritated that the tracks had been freshly hidden with the sudden snow - there was little way to track if anyone had arrived or left recently.  He continued on, waiting to hear a scout shout out to him.  

Except it was silent.  When Arthur reached the cave and saw the tents were gone, he knew they had moved on.  But why would Micah tell him to come here? Arthur stepped off Roy and made his way around the clearing, digging into the snow with his foot to see if there was any evidence of a gunfight.  

There was nothing.  Nothing new, at least.  He found old blankets and empty cans of food left behind.  Nobody had died there recently. They just up and left.

Roy made an anxious sound and stomped the ground.  Arthur dove behind a tree just as a gunshot echoed throughout the hollow.  The bark splintered in places one after the other as he sank behind the tree and readied his rifle.

It had been a trap, alright.  But who was he fighting against, exactly?  Arthur steeled himself and aimed around the tree to pop off one man on the hill.  The man fell with a hard thud. It wasn’t a man from Dutch’s group. A Pinkerton. This was a ploy to get Arthur killed or arrested.

They were doing well at pinning him down.  A bullet nicked him in the leg, causing him to stumble.  He tried to make himself smaller against the tree and took a deep breath to steady his beating heart.  There were two men to his left - he waited until they fired two shots, then swerved and caught their heads in his scope and sent them falling back, blood spurting from their foreheads.

A branch snapped from behind him and he whipped around just to be shoved forwards by a Pinkerton.  He lost his grip on his rifle as he fell against the ground, his right shoulder digging into a sharp rock.  The man had a small pistol in his hand, which Arthur grabbed and pushed away as the two struggled on the ground.  

Arthur mustered his strength and pushed the man to the ground, then grabbed his pistol and unloaded three shots in the man’s stomach.  He didn’t bother to see if the man was moving - he found the remaining two men and picked them off.

He was surprised that despite his reclining health he was able to face off against multiple men and still pull through.  His lungs were screaming and his arms were shaking, but he had done it.  

He grabbed the rifle that had fallen and paused as he listened to the men.  One was still alive. The man had fallen near where Dutch’s tent had been and seemed to be gurgling on his own blood or spit.

Arthur went over to the and knelt slowly.  “Where is Charlotte? Is she with the van der Linde gang or the Pinkertons?” he asked calmly.  

“The gang... just east of Cumberland Forest, mister,” the Pinkerton coughed out, spit leaking out the corner of his mouth.  The man was young with blond hair and a childish face he hadn’t yet grown out of. “You gotta help save me, you gotta-”

Arthur took one small glimpse at the wound.  It had punctured the man’s shoulder and if not taken care of soon, could prove to be fatal.  But it was either Charlotte’s life or the Pinkertons. “I can’t do nothin’ for you, mister. Except…” Arthur jogged down the path a ways and whistled for the horses the Pinkertons would have brought.  He heard one neigh in response and went to go fetch it.   

It was only a matter of minutes until he had tied a bandage around the man’s chest and put him on the horse.  “You ride to Annesburg, and don’t stop for no one. You ain’t got much time,” Arthur warned him. The man’s state was already fading - his skin was pasty and his eyes kept getting hazy.  “Can you do that?”

“I’ll… I’ll try.  Thank you, mister.”

“Now get out of here,” Arthur said and smacked the horse’s rear.  The horse shot off and vanished down the path.

The daylight was running out as the winter sun made its descent.  Arthur made his own haste and had Roy ride fast to the location the Pinkerton had specified.  It was a few days ride away from where he was and he was not looking forward to the journey in snow.  Neither was Roy. Yet he could not let Charlotte suffer at their hands for much longer.

He ignored the fatigue in his body and only slept when he needed to.  There was too much at stake for him to rest easy. He shot rabbits along the way and fixed them for his meals, or he ate the dried fruit and meat he had grabbed before he left.  Food hadn’t done much for him lately. It helped little to regain his energy yet he still ate what he could.

That spot in Cumberland Forest had been near the place where he had rescued Mary’s younger brother from that cult.  Dutch had probably cleared them out already. It was a location one would have a hard time approaching without being seen.  At least it would be an easy fight against the Pinkertons, though they had been growing in numbers and Dutch’s numbers had been declining.  

It was mid-morning when Arthur finally approached the path that led up to the van der Linde gang.  He had scoped it out with his binoculars and had seen scouts and Bill moving around, but it had been too far away to make out anybody else.  They had stationed one scout on the edge of the mountain who would easily see Arthur as he approached.  

Arthur felt his hands turn clammy as he went up the path.  A winter chill blew through the air and the snow had yet to fall that day.  The chill seeped into Arthur’s skin and slowly dwindled his strength. The snow was almost a foot deep this high up and had made Arthur’s journey a bit slower.  

Javier greeted him on the path.  “Why are you here?” he asked with no trace of disgust.  He was bundled up in a thick fur jacket and his beard had grown in.   

Arthur regarded him cautiously.  He had always liked Javier, but the man had always followed Dutch’s leadership without question.  It showed the morals he possessed, but deep down, Arthur knew Javier was capable of doing the right thing. 

“I’m here for Charlotte.” 

“The woman?” Javier seemed startled.  “You… weren’t who we were expecting.”

“I’m sure.  Some rich and powerful family, I would assume?” Arthur knew Charlotte came from a well off family, but he doubted they had actually been contacted.  She was merely the bait in this plan.  

“You better come explain this to Dutch.  Follow me.” Javier led Arthur up to the clearing where several tents were hitched and unknown men walked about. The snow had been haphazardly pushed off to the edges. He got off his horse and left him at the top of the path in case he had to make a quick getaway. The men all watched with careful and judging eyes, their hands on their rifles or pistols.  

Dutch stood in a thick red jacket and black hat.  His nose and cheeks were red for being in the cold too long and something about him seemed off to Arthur.  Dutch’s cheeks were more hollow and his mustache was bushy and untrimmed. It was unusual for Dutch to let himself go.  It pained Arthur to see him like that.

“I am here for the Charlotte Balfour,” Arthur said in a smooth voice.  “She don’t need to be mixed up in all of this.”

One tall man was standing guard at a tent, his rifle held in front of him.  He guess that’s where Charlotte was.  

“We were expecting money for her,” Dutch responded.  “You aren’t the Mr. Balfour, unless things have changed since I seen you last.”

“The Mr. Balfour has been dead for months, now.  Charlotte is the one who saved my life after the O’Driscolls.  I’m afraid there been some mistake, Dutch.”

Micah pulled the fabric back from Dutch’s tent and watched Arthur with a stern face as he stepped out.  His gloved fingers were on his pistols as he made his way over to stand by Dutch, his shoulders hunched. 

“Why’d you kidnap her, Micah, and then leave a note for me to find that led me _directly_ to the Pinkertons?” Arthur questioned him.

“He’s delirious, Dutch.  Look at him. He’s a dyin’ man,” Micah warned.  

Arthur held out his hand.  “Let me see Charlotte. I need to see she is safe.”

“What’s going on, Micah?” Dutch asked.  For the first time, Arthur could hear doubt in his voice.  “You said that woman was married. That there’d be money.”

Micah rubbed a hand over his nose and sniffed.  “I told you, Dutch, someone is comin’ for her. Arthur’s playin’ games, messin’ with your mind.  Probably workin’ for the Pinkertons-”

“I ain’t workin’ with them!” Arthur roared, then coughed a few times into his hands.  “Let me see Charlotte-”

“Bring her out,” Dutch commanded to the tall guard.  The tall guard glared, but went into the tent with haste.  A second later he stepped out, holding Charlotte by her arm.  He tossed her to the ground and she landed harshly on her side.  Her hands were tied behind her and a gag was over her mouth.

Arthur hurried to her side and used his knife to tear off the gag.  He quickly assessed her - there were no bruises on her face and she had been bundled up warmly for the cold.  Her hair was in a greasy mess about her head, let down as opposed to pulled back as it usually was. She was openly sobbing at the sight of him and he held her to him and patted her back.  “Shhh. I came for ya, Charlotte, as fast as I could. I’m sorry this had to happen to you.”

She sobbed into his shoulder.  “I didn’t know if you would find me; they didn’t let me talk and defend myself.”  She pulled away from Arthur and glared harshly at Micah and Dutch. “I kept trying to tell you men there wasn’t anybody who was going to rescue me!  My husband’s dead. I owe my life to Arthur, that’s all. I don’t have money to give you and neither does he.”

Micah pulled out his pistol and leveled it at Dutch’s head.  Dutch moved to grab his pistol, but men jumped towards Arthur and Charlotte and grabbed them from behind.  Dutch held back once they had knives to Arthur’s and Charlotte’s throats. Arthur was on his knees, struggling against the arm against his throat.  He felt the pinprick of the knife and felt a drop of blood seep down his neck.  

Micah walked around Dutch liked a predator.  “Well, this is a quite the series of events,” he began. He motioned for two men to grab Dutch; they took Dutch’s weapons and had his hands quickly tied behind his back.  “What? No speech from the mighty Dutch? No words of enlightenment?”

“I trusted you-” Dutch started.

“And I trusted and believed in you!  Until the Pinkertons got my hide. Your life for mine, Dutch.  It had to come to this.” Micah waved his pistol back and forth between Dutch and Arthur. “The Pinkertons were supposed to get you!” he shouted at Arthur.  

Arthur could as easily pull his weapon and shoot the man holding him in the jaw.  But it was the risk of Charlotte’s life. He didn’t bother to grab it. “I got the Pinkertons instead. They ain’t gonna be happy about their dead men.”  He looked around for Bill and Javier. He found Bill standing at the back of the men with an astonished, pale look on his face. Javier was nowhere to be seen. 

“Micah,” Bill finally spoke up.  He was the thinnest Arthur had ever seen him.  Even though it had been around a month since they had last seen each other, the van der Linde gang must have been through some difficult times.  Bill moved to the front of the men. “What do you mean by all this? Dutch ain’t done nothin’ but support you-”

Micah took one step forward and shot him point blank in the chest. Everyone was silent for a moment, then Bill dropped to his knees with a blank look on his face and toppled to his side. 

Arthur jerked forward in surprise and Dutch pulled against the men holding him, raging curses at Micah.  “You bastard! Out of everything I have done for YOU, because I trusted YOU!”  

A horse neighed and could be heard galloping down the mountain path.  The men made their way to the edge of the mountain and fired at Javier who had taken Roy.  By the sound of their groans, they had missed shooting him as he escaped down the mountain. 

“Let him go!” Micah spat.  “Tie these three up. You - ride out to the Pinkertons and tell them we have them all.” The tall guard ran off towards one of their horses to get it ready to leave.

Arthur struggled against the three men who held him down.  One undid his belt and took his guns away while the other two held his arms as they tied a rope around his wrists and his ankles.  They did the same to Dutch, who was seething with rage. It took many men to hold him down and tie him up.  

They dragged the three captives closer to the campfire and arranged them so they were all sitting back to back.  Micah and a few of his men disappeared inside of Dutch’s tent, most likely to discuss their next course of action.

Arthur’s vision began dancing in front of him and he leaned to one side, breathing deeply, each breath straining more than the last.  

“Arthur!  Stay with me,” Charlotte demanded.  “You can’t die here!”

“I ain’t… it gotta pass…” Arthur said through tight breaths.  He hacked a few times and spit out blood. His illness was making itself apparent in more frequent waves.  But he couldn’t let himself die yet. He had to make sure Charlotte and Dutch were safe.

“You’re Dutch, right?” Charlotte asked the older man with vigor.  “You son of a bitch, you abandoned him-”

“Charlotte!” Arthur wheezed.  He had never heard her use an ounce of language before.  “It don’t matter no more.”

“You’re dying because of him!” Charlotte sat up straight, her features all scrunched up in anger.  “Do you know that, Dutch?”

Dutch was leaning forward, his shoulders hunched in defeat.  His gaze was focused on Bill, who still lay on his side, the blood soaking the dirt.  Nobody had bothered to move his body. “I…”

Arthur cleared his throat.  “Charlotte. Let me handle this.  Christsakes, you sound like Sadie.” 

“I don’t have her temper but this has been a TRYING FEW DAYS!” Charlotte screamed.  She took a few breaths and suddenly seemed embarrassed for her outburst. “I’m sorry, Arthur.”  She bowed her head and began to silently sob.

“I don’t want to say this, Dutch,” Arthur muttered.  He turned his head toward the man.  

“Then don’t,” Dutch responded curtly.

Arthur kept his voice low.  “I told you so.”

“That is clear, isn’t it?”

“What are we going to do?”

“What can we do?” Dutch whispered back with fury.  “I don’t have any men!”

“You have me!  As you always have!” 

That shut Dutch up.  He looked away and let out a sad chuckle.  “Apparently so. And what good will that do us now?  You aren’t yourself, Arthur. And I am sorry for that.  But the way things are looking, this isn’t going to work in our favor.  We lost, son.”

“Oh?  You took Micah’s betrayal that hard?” Arthur said.  He couldn’t keep the contempt out of his voice. “You still ain’t the Dutch I know.  The Dutch who wouldn’t accept defeat. What’s wrong with you?”

“Do you know how hard it is to see your family walk out on you?  First it was Molly. You left with John. And then everybody followed, one by one.”

“Because you kept followin’ a fool’s plan, Dutch!  We woulda kept dyin’ off, one by one. Now all of us?  We safe. Considerin’ Micah haven’t given up every location.  He ratted you out, Dutch. I was tortured and still defended _you._ I always been loyal to you.”

Dutch let out a long sigh.  “I know that now, son.”

Their conversation turned quiet as they watched the men go about their business throughout the camp.  They started tearing down the tents and packing up the supplies on their horses, meaning they were going to move soon.  Arthur silently hoped Javier hadn’t just ran - he hoped he had ran off to find help. He was beginning to regret not bringing along John and Sadie, but it might just be a factor that’ll help him if they manage to find him. If he knew Sadie, she would have followed him no matter what.  

Micah moved out of the tent and stormed around without looking at the three of them.  Arthur wasn’t surprised he didn’t see any guilt from the man - Micah was purely a person who looked after himself.  

One of the more heavyset grunts went over to Charlotte and pulled her up by the arm.  She screamed in pain as he yanked her along. “Hey, Micah? Can we play with her now?”  He tossed Charlotte at another grunt, who caught her with a laugh. His hands didn’t hesitate with groping her breast.

Arthur shot up and stumbled against the rope around his feet.  “Don’t you touch her!” he growled.  

“We don’t have time, and we gotta give her unharmed to the Pinkertons,” Micah said mournfully.  “Sit her down. We gotta get up and leave.”

“Pity,” the grunt said who was holding her.  He pushed Charlotte to the ground next to Arthur and moved along.

Charlotte leaned against the wet ground and murmured, “I wanna go home, Arthur.  Take me home. Please.”

“Don’t you worry, Charlotte.  You can trust me.” Arthur wanted to comfort her further, but in his tied up state, he didn’t know how.   

“One thing before we go,” Micah called out once everybody was packed and ready to leave.  His eyes landed on Arthur. “Pick him up.”  

Two grunts grabbed Arthur by the arms and moved him to stand up.  His body had little will to fight back. 

Micah stepped in front of him and crossed his arms.  “You ain’t lookin’ too hot, cowpoke. The free life too much for you?” Micah taunted him.  “From the looks of things, I still came out on top.”

“Because you a backstabbin’ bastard.”

“True.  That is true.  But I do agree that this is the best plan of them all!  Do you know how much I’ll be gettin’ for the both of you?  It’s a pity I didn’t get that boy Marston, but I’ll take what I can get.”  Micah moved and punched Arthur in the gut in one swift movement.  

Arthur leaned forward, gasping for air.  Pain shuttered throughout his stomach and he nearly toppled to his knees.  The men holding his arms kept him standing.

“I been wantin’ to do this ever since I saw your goddamn face!” Micah roared and punched him twice more in the stomach.  “You goddamn, self-righteous bastard!” He brought a fist to Arthur’s face, which made Arthur’s knees buckle. The men dropped him and he passed out before he hit the ground.


	24. Chapter 24

Arthur woke with a cough already in his lungs.  He struggled to hear, the voices foggy and unintelligible.  A rugged, callused hand pressed on his forehead and he opened his eyes to find Dutch looking over him, his eyes so full of concern, Arthur hadn’t realized how much he missed it. 

It brought back a memory he had long forgotten - Arthur had only been with the gang three years, but he had proven himself many times over. Hosea was out with Bessie at the time and the gang was small in size.  It was the time Dutch and Arthur had grown the closest - Dutch, a wise and prominent father figure. And Arthur, a hot-headed and impatient young man. Yet they had bonded and counted on each other over the years.

One night, Arthur had caught a fever, and a bad one at that.  The gang was short on medicine and Dutch had ridden hard to town for more supplies.  He returned and watched over Arthur like a hawk, helping feed and move him. It was the first time Arthur had had anyone dote on him or care for him.  

As the years passed, those times passed as well, and Dutch wisened up to be a hardened man who pushed people away from him.  Arthur always blamed Anabelle’s death. Dutch had never been the same after that.

But as Arthur woke in present day, he had caught a glimpse of Dutch’s former self.  And then Dutch backed away and steeled his eyes once more, and Arthur could see the moment was over.  He sat up, taking stock of where he was. The two of them were in one of those prison wagons, their legs and arms unbound. He was laying on the floor by Dutch’s feet.

They were surrounded in a clearing with Pinkertons and Micah with his men.  Tall trees outlined the clearing, the forest dark and hidden behind branches.  Snow littered the ground in disarray from all the footsteps. Arthur slowly moved up to take a seat - Dutch surprisingly leaned in and grabbed Arthur by the arm to help - and he sat across from Dutch.  Dutch handed him his father’s hat, which Arthur put on with a bit of relief.  

It had turned into night while Arthur had been out.  He touched his bearded face and felt the crusted blood on it.  Micah hadn’t broken his nose, but it ached like hell.  

“You really dying, aren’t you?” Dutch asked suddenly, his voice nearly inaudible.  

“Tuberculosis.  Got it from Mr. Downes,” Arthur said and sniffed.  He looked away. “When I acted as a loan shark for Strauss.”

“I…”

“Can’t change it now.”  Arthur let out a long sigh and inspected the camp.  Milton and Ross were there with at least fifteen to twenty men.  Plus Micah and his ten men. Not very good odds. It would be a doomed fight from start to finish.  “Is Charlotte okay?”

“She’s over there.  Pinkertons are supposed to escort her home,” Dutch said.  He motioned to where Charlotte sat on a wagon, a blanket over her shoulders.  She was watching everything with wide and frightened eyes. “You got a plan, Arthur?”

“No.  I’ll be honest.  It ain’t lookin’ good.”

“Well.  I do. But it requires us to get moving.”

Arthur snorted.  “‘Course you do.”  Voices raised between Micah and Agent Milton as they argued about something.  “But we might not even get that far.”

Agent Ross walked over to the wagon and lit a cigarette.  “Hello, Arthur. So good to see you again.”

“Can’t say the same.”

“How  _ did _ you escape the last time we caught you?”

“After you smashed my hand, you mean?”  Arthur’s hand ached at the memory.  

“Oh yes.  I’d nearly forgotten.  Your hand doing okay?”

“It can still shoot your brains out, sure.”

Ross frowned.  “Funny. But you see, we are in a bit of a misunderstanding between Mr. Bell and ourselves.  The agreement was John and Abigail Marston and Sadie Adler, as well.”

“They ain’t a part of this.”

“Micah says they were.  So they are. We might have to continue that hammering session of ours, Mr. Morgan, so we can find out where they are.”

Arthur felt his knees go weak.  He did not want it to come to that.  “I ain’t gonna tell you, Ross, no matter how much you torture me.”  Why was he the one being subject to all the beatings?  

“What about Dutch, here?” Ross inquired.

“He don’t know.”

“I’ll take your word for it, or both of you might suffer needlessly.”  Ross tipped his hat to them and walked back to the bickering men.  

“Where are we?” Arthur asked.

Dutch took off his hat and brushed back a few strands of hair.  “We made it down the mountain, that much I know. So not far. They intend to take us to Blackwater, so it’ll be a few days ride.  If we do go.”

“It ain’t gonna come to that.”  Arthur kept his eyes on Micah and Milton.  He could see the frustration on Micah’s face.  They were either cheating Micah out of his money or forcing him to do something else for it.  Milton turned away from Micah and started walking towards the wagon. He had a smug look about his face, knowing he had won.

But by the look on Micah’s face, Arthur could tell this wasn’t going to end well.  Micah lifted his left hand, turned to his men, and yelled, “Fire!” 

Hell broke loose as suddenly Micah’s men fired on the Pinkertons.  Everybody dived for cover and gunshots were fired in every single direction.  Charlotte dodged into the back of the wagon and took cover. Arthur took this opportunity to lean over and grab the lock.  If he had some sort of pin, he could force it open. Dutch tapped his shoulder and handed him a long lockpick. “Did you forget yours, Arthur?”

“Must have,” Arthur huffed and grabbed the lockpick.  All it took was setting the pin in and pressing it around until he felt the proper gears turn, then it popped open with a click and he pushed the door open.  He and Dutch jumped out and dove for cover behind the wagon.

“Our guns are there!” Dutch yelled and pointed to another wagon deep in the cluster of Pinkertons.  There was not a chance of grabbing their weapons. Arthur spotted a downed Pinkerton about ten feet away from him and ran to grab the rifle next to him.  He slid in the snow and felt a bullet whiz past his ear, but then the rifle was in his hands and he was running for cover behind a tree.

Dutch did much of the same and found his own rifle, and together they tried to hold off the angry mix of people.  Arthur saw a bright object get thrown over his head and land next to three Pinkertons and he dove for cover. A loud boom sounded along with men’s screams.  Then Arthur found Sadie at his side, helping stand him up. She had her hair tied back and was equipped with two pistols, a rifle, and a shotgun.  

“Sadie,” he huffed and gripped her in a bone crushing hug.  He then covered her in quick kisses and let her go. “You found us!”

“We came across a Pinkerton who told us about you, and Javier came across us. He led us here.  We been tryn’ to track you ever since,” Sadie elaborated quickly. “We gonna get you out of here.”

A dark, scarred face peeked out from behind a tree and waved to Arthur.  “Hey! Glad to see you’re okay!” John shouted.  

Charles stepped from around John and tossed another stick of dynamite at the remaining men of Micah’s.  It caught one of them in the explosion, but the other three fell back and disappeared into the forest.  

“Micah’s headed back up the mountainside,” Dutch said.  “Let’s go.”

“We’ll hold off the Pinkertons,” John said and shot over his shoulder towards where Ross stayed huddled with his men across the clearing.  “You go get the bastard!”

John, Charles, and Javier provided cover for Arthur, Dutch, and Sadie as they ran back up the mountain path.  Snow had begun to fall at a fast pace, covering the ground in a fresh new blanket of snow. They grabbed horses along the way as Micah’s men had grabbed their own. 

“Let’s go, boah,” Arthur whispered to Roy and then they were off at a wicked speed, Dutch and Sadie close behind.  The path was curvy and dangerous. One small slip and they could go cascading down the side. Roy stayed true to the path, avoiding any obstacles, giving his full strength.

They caught up to the first grunt.  Arthur steadied his aim and shot him in the back.  The body fell to the side and tumbled off the mountain cliff.  Arthur wasn’t ready for the second man to be turned around and facing him.  Arthur had Roy dodge to the side and heard Sadie scream; he halted his horse and caught Sadie’s reins as the horse passed him.  

Dutch shot twice and downed the man, then waited impatiently for Arthur, who dismounted his horse.

Arthur pulled Sadie down and set her on the ground.  Blood coated her arm and only her arm, which he was eternally grateful for.  It wasn’t life threatening. She fought him to stand up. “I can still fight!” 

“No.  You stay here.  That’s final,” Arthur grit out.  He stood and smacked her horse so it could start running down the hill.  “I’ll come back and get you.” 

“Arthur Morgan, don’t you dare leave me here,” Sadie snapped.  “Don’t you-”

Arthur sealed her complaint with a kiss and backed away to his horse.  “I love you, Sadie Adler. I wish we coulda had more time.”

“Arthur!”

He hopped on his horse and followed Dutch up the path.  In reality, this was not a great place for Micah to have run off too.  There was only one path up and down and the mountain itself was rocky and treacherous; there would be a standoff at the top and Arthur was prepared to face it.  

A man suddenly jumped down from above and knocked Dutch clean from his horse.  Together they fell down a tiny ravine to a flat part of rock, with Dutch landing on top.  Arthur knew Dutch would win that fight. He continued on.

He hopped off Roy and approached the top of the mountainside with caution.  Micah’s horse danced nervously off to the side, meaning Micah had dismounted and was prepared to fire.  There wasn’t much for cover up on the hill, as it was only covered in rocks and moss.

“This is it, Micah!” Arthur yelled.  He continued up the incline until he saw Micah pacing back and forth along the far edge.  He aimed the rifle at him.

“This is all your for fault, Morgan!  You started this!” Micah yelled. He didn’t bother to point his weapon at Arthur.  “We coulda had something! But your selfishness got in the way!”

“I ain’t gonna debate this with you,” Arthur said.  “Put down your weapons, Micah.” 

Micah jeered at him.  “You are gonna die here, Morgan!”  His hand shot to his pistol.

Arthur’s rifle was already aimed for Micah’s head.  He pulled the trigger.  

Nothing happened.

Pain exploded in his right shoulder and sent him falling to his side.  He let go of the gun and held the blood seeping out of his shoulder. Stars danced in his vision and were suddenly replaced by Micah’s face.  It was like an onslaught of sudden fists and kicks to his body, jamming into his ribs, his groin, his face. He felt his nose snap as Micah continued beating on him.

Arthur’s body had finally given out.  He lacked the strength to fight back.

Then the kicks and punches halted and he felt Micah half fall on him, his body unmoving.  Then the body was pulled off him and he was staring once again to Dutch’s face, once again the dark eyes so full of concern, Arthur nearly didn’t believe it.  But Dutch was there, dragging Arthur’s body through the snow towards the nearest horse.

Then Arthur was dropped to the ground and Dutch fell to his knees to the right of Arthur, blood splattering the front of his shirt.  He looked over Arthur with glazed eyes and grabbed his hand.  

“You gonna be a father, Arthur?” he asked him, speaking as if the blood on his chest didn’t phase him.

Arthur weakly nodded.  He didn’t have the strength to speak and his voice was caught in his throat.

“Well.  Good. You gonna be a great one.  Me? I wasn’t that great.” Dutch’s voice finally began to wane.  “But you… you were the best, most loyal son... a man could ask for.”  Dutch’s eyes went blank and he slumped forward onto Arthur’s chest.  

Arthur felt tears well up in his eyes and he put a hand on Dutch’s back.  “Dutch? … Dutch?”

“I had hoped to hang him,” a breathless Milton called out.  His was out of breath and his clothing in disarray. His eyes were frantic as he lowered his pistol to his side.  “But he proved too dangerous. I’m not going to even bother shooting you. You look dead already. Pity, isn’t it?  The van der Linde gang had to go this way. Inglorious.”

Dutch had a pistol in his left holster he must have grabbed along the way.

“We’ll find the Mrs. Adler and John yet.  Your outlaw life is over, Morgan, and know it was me-”

Arthur grabbed the pistol and shot Milton directly in the head, halting the man from finishing his speech.  Milton toppled to the ground right as the snow had stopped falling. It had covered Dutch in a light dusting, his blood melting the snow and seeping into Arthur’s shirt.

Sunlight broke over the mountains and Arthur thought of a sudden phrase the curious man Francis Sinclair had said.

_ Look to the sun. _

And so Arthur did, and let it claim him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated/deleted tags and relationships.


	25. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

 

**Part One**

 

It was silent.  Almost too silent, when one might go insane from the profound loneliness the lack of sound tends to bring.  Then a small ticking noise started chiming in the background, each tick becoming clearer than the last. It pierced through the loneliness and the fog that clouded in one’s mind.  A voice started ebbing in and out of the fog, inaudible and desperate.  

The words drifted in Arthur’s mind like a tender touch, a reminder of where he needed to be.  There were several voices who he thought it could be and he strained his ears to make out the words clearer.  The ticks began to fade, allowing the voice’s words to become more and more pronounced, and he remembered who it was.

Sadie Adler.  

He opened his eyes after what seemed an eternity and found himself staring into the top of Sadie’s head.  She sat with her head down on her arms, in a chair next to his bed. He couldn’t tell if she was asleep or not.  It was dark in the bedroom, a bedroom he knew was his, in a bed he had never slept in. He spotted a small grandfather clock hanging on the wall by the door, which would explain the ticking he had been so focused on. 

Next to him was the flower charm he had put in his satchel, the green and pink leaves a reminder of his earlier life.  He was grateful it hadn’t been lost. It would have been missed quite a bit. He let his eyes trail back to the bed and Sadie.

The bed had always been Sadie’s.  And now it seemed empty now that she wasn’t in it.  He wanted nothing more than to hold her to him. He lifted his right hand, his right two fingers still stiff, and placed it on Sadie’s head.  His shoulder ached somewhat, but he ignored it.

“Sadie,” he whispered.  

She jerked awake and blinked her tired eyes at him.  “You awake,” she muttered frantically and grasped his hand.  She planted a kiss on the back of it and cradled it to her face.  “I was afraid-”

“I thought…” Arthur gulped.  Memories of that night were finally rushing back to him.  Micah, killed by Dutch. Dutch… possibly killed by Milton.  Milton killed by Arthur. And apparently Arthur had survived that fight.  He remembered nothing of how he had gotten to Sadie’s bed. “Dutch? Is he-?”

Sadie shook her head.  “I’m sorry, Arthur. He was gone by the time we found you.”

Arthur looked away and tried to ignore the pain at the thought of him being gone.  “John?”

“Got shot pretty bad by Ross. But he’ll make it through.  Charles and Abigail is tendin’ to him.”

“The Pinkertons?”

“Gone.  For now.” Sadie leaned over and brushed Arthur’s bangs back.  “The Agent Milton and Ross was killed. They won’t bother us no more.  We found you on the mountaintop, barely breathin’. We…had to leave Dutch behind.  There was no time. We only just got back. You was out for a couple days.”

Arthur was silent as he mused this information over.  He had seen Dutch die before him. He knew it had happened.  Despite everything that had come between them the last few years, Dutch had pulled through in the end.  Arthur just wished it hadn’t happened the way it did.

Arthur squeezed Sadie’s hand in an attempt to hold the tears at bay.  She had long sleeves on that was hiding the wound on her arm, though her arm was wrapped in a simple sling around her shoulder.  “You okay?”

“Yes, I’m okay.  After you left me, I tried pushin’ my way back up.  Tried to fight Milton when he came up, but he merely passed me up. He was a desperate man at that moment.  And he still lost.”

Arthur didn’t regret shooting Milton one bit.  “I thought that was gonna be the last moment I would see you.  I had to know you were safe, Sadie. I’m sorry for pushin’ you away.”

“Don’t be.  This is what happened.  I ain’t gonna be upset no more, Arthur.  We both suffered enough. How you feelin’, by the way?  Your nose was broken and you was covered in bruises and shot in the shoulder.”

Arthur looked at the clock as he lightly touched his nose.  It was strangely bandaged with a wrap around his face. Whether or not it would heal straight… he would find out later.  “I feel… Sadie, I don’t know how to explain. My body has been in pain for quite some time. Every time I moved, I felt tired.  I struggled to breathe walking across a room. It felt like I could feel the sickness closin’ in on me, this weight in my chest.  And now?” Arthur took a deep breath and breathed out slowly. “I don’t know why, but I can’t feel it in my lungs. They ain’t screamin’ no more. It’s like it… don’t wanna say it’s gone, Sadie.  But… it feels like it.”

“We’ll keep hopin’, Arthur.  I’m just glad you were still alive when I found ya.  You gave me a fright somethin’ awful.” Sadie kissed his hand one more time and let go.  She stood up and wandered over to the dresser by the door and picked up a stack of letters.  “These came for you, while we was gone. Charles found Hosea, by the way. He’s livin’ in a cabin by himself.  Didn’t want to come, but wants us to visit.” She walked over back to Arthur and handed him the opened letter. 

Arthur sat up in bed and took the letters from her.  She lit a candle so he could have light to read them.  He leaned against the wall as he began to open them. He read the letter slowly, recognizing Hosea’s crisp handwriting.  Hosea gave a location and told Arthur not to worry about him, but to visit within the next year. For the first time, Arthur began to feel optimistic that it was possible for him. 

“I found this one under the front door,” Sadie murmured, pointing to the next letter in the pile.  “It just says your name on the outside.”

“I don’t recognize the handwriting…” Arthur looked over a thick brown envelope which contained something bulky inside.  His name was written in flowing cursive on the outside but offered no hint as to what it was. Sadie handed him a small knife which he used to tear it open.

He dumped the contents onto the bed and went still once he realized what they were.  Flowers. Beautiful, fresh and blooming flowers, the same pink and green flower of his mother’s.  He leaned over and picked up his, then compared it to the new ones. The flowers were exactly the same.  Even the scent was similar.  

“These flowers were freshly cut,” Arthur told Sadie confusedly.  “Who is this from?”

“Here’s a note that dropped out with it.” Sadie handed him a small square note.

Arthur read it slowly.  “” _I told you you wouldn’t meet the big one yet, old chap.  Oregon is lovely this time of year. Though I suppose it’s a different time for you yet.  Let me tell you, this was no duck soup. It’s time for me to continue on. Enjoy the flowers.’”_ Arthur flipped over the tiny note and saw Francis Sinclair’s signature on the back.

“I don’t understand,” Arthur murmured.  He gathered all the flowers and closed his eyes as he smelled them.  It reminded him of his mother.  

“I woulda liked to meet this Francis Sinclair. Seems like he was really invested in you, Arthur.”

“And I don’t know why.”

“Let me get a vase for the flowers, hold on.”  Sadie stepped out of the room and returned within seconds.  She took the flowers and set them by the bed. “They’re truly beautiful, Arthur.  Your mother had lovely taste.”

Arthur reached over and pulled Sadie closer to him.  She lay on her uninjured arm and put her head on his left shoulder.  “They’re just as beautiful as you,” Arthur whispered to her. He hugged her tightly to him.  “You been so patient with me, Sadie. I hope to make it up to you.”

“You don’t have to make up anythin’, Arthur.  You alive. That’s all I wanted. I was so scared when I saw you up there.  Dutch was layin’ on ya, you were so pale… but alive. Javier helped you down the hill… it all went by in a blur.”

“I thought I had died up there.  But I knew you was safe. I was ready to die.  I never been so tired before. But Francis said somethin’ when I saw him last.  Just to look at the sun. The sun was the last thing I remember up on that mountain, Sadie.  And I still alive.”

“Don’t question it too hard.  I sure ain’t.”

Arthur lightly ran his fingers through her hair.  “Maybe I won’t.”

They laid in each other’s arms until the both of them fell asleep.  When the birds started chirping and the morning light escaped through the half closed drapes, Arthur awoke.  Sadie was still crested in his arm, breathing quietly in a deep slumber. He slowly crept from underneath her and managed to get her head on a pillow.  She merely rolled over and went back to sleep. Arthur gave her a small kiss and tucked a blanket around her. 

His right shoulder was tender from where the gunshot wound had been, but as he looked at the simple stitches and the crusted blood, he could tell it was healing just fine.  It ached only if he moved his arm too much. There was a mirror on the dresser which he nearly passed, having avoided looking at himself for so long. He stopped and took a quick glance, and flinched.  

He was so thin.  He had always been a large man, his muscles toned from living a rough and hazardous lifestyle.  But the sickness had sapped every inch of muscle from him, leaving his cheeks hollow and his eyes sunken.  His beard was wild and unkempt. He couldn’t tell if he was actually getting better. There were yellow and blue bruises around his eyes, his nose was still slightly puffy and one eye was more swollen than the other.  His chest and stomach were no better. His ribs were prominent where they hadn’t been before. The kicks he had gotten on his ribs left them battered - he was amazed he hadn’t broken one. 

Sadie had put out clothes for him on the top of the dresser.  He pulled on white long johns and a pair of simple trousers with suspenders.  Once he got on socks and boots, he headed out the bedroom with a jacket in hand.  The outhouse was tucked away behind the house and calling his name.

He exited from the back of the house and was surprised to see almost a foot of snow.  He grumbled as he made his way through the snow and went to complete his business. He returned to the house, his whole body freezing, and went in quietly to stand next to the fireplace.

He found Charles and Charlotte on the couch, cuddled closely together, both asleep.  Arthur hadn’t expected that. He crept back into his bedroom and found Sadie awake and getting dressed.

“There you are,” Sadie said.  She undid the sling on her arm and shrugged off her nightgown.  

Arthur felt himself flush at the sight of her naked body.  Her breasts were full and rounder than the last time he had seen them.  Her pregnant stomach curved out and still astonished him that their baby was growing in there. 

It had been awhile since he saw all of her, he realized.  He found himself walking over with intent to kiss her, then caught sight of himself once again in the mirror.  He stopped himself and took a step back.

“What’s wrong?” Sadie asked.

“I ain’t much to look at right now.”  Arthur sat on the bed, feeling ashamed.  

Sadie pulled on a long shirt, putting her injured arm carefully through the arm hole, and walked over.  “‘Course you are. You just got shot and beaten up. What do you expect?”

“I… don’t know.”

“Give it time,” Sadie advised.  She leaned over and gave him a long kiss, careful not to press too hard against his nose.  “I’ll still have my way with you yet. Now come on, let’s get breakfast goin’.” She moved back to the dresser and pulled on a skirt.  

“Did you know about Charles and Charlotte?”

“I suspected.  Charles has been spendin’ a lot of time at her house.  Why?”

“They cuddlin’ on the couch.”

Sadie’s eyes brightened.  “Oh!” She opened the door to peek out, then shut it closed.  “They awake and movin’ about. I’ll ask her later. Help me put the sling back on?” 

Once the sling was on, the two of them left the room and Arthur went to greet Charles, who sat at the table cutting a loaf of bread.  Charlotte was busy cracking eggs into a bowl.

“You’re awake!” Charles smiled. “How are you feeling?”

Arthur shrugged.  “I’ve been better, but I’m alive.” 

Charlotte grinned at him, wiped her hands, and went over to give him a brief hug.  She pulled away with tears in her eyes. “I’m so glad you made it through, Arthur.”

“I’m sorry you were dragged into this, Charlotte.  How long were you gone for?”

“About a week.  Micah and those men grabbed me and the next thing I know, I’m just kept in a tent for days.  I kept trying to talk to Dutch, but Micah made sure that didn’t happen. It wasn’t pleasant. And I’d hate to go through that again.”  Charlotte shivered and wandered over to put a hand on Charles’ shoulder. Charles reached up and grabbed her hand. “But you guys are worth it,” she said, her eyes soft as she stared at Charles.

Arthur took a seat at the table next to Charles.  Either this had been happening for a while between the two or it was a recent development.  Either way, he was happy for them. His stomach growled at the sight of food. He snatched a piece of bread and grabbed the butter on the table.  The slice was warm, which made it all the better. It felt like ages since he had sat at a table and actually ate. The past few months it had been in his tent or by the campfire.

Before Arthur took a bite, he said, “Thank you, Charles.  For helpin’ against the Pinkertons. Couldn’t have done it without you and John.”

“Of course.  I’m just glad I came back when I did.  You gave us quite a scare. I’m surprised you’re up and about already.”

“I can’t explain it.  I may not look it, but I feel better.”  He took a bite of bread and nearly groaned at the taste.  It tasted heavenly. “How’s John doin’?”

“He was shot twice,” Charlotte said gravely.  She moved back to the eggs and continued cracking them into a bowl.  “Thankfully, they were not life threatening. I stitched up the two of you, so forgive me if it leaves a nasty scar.  It isn’t going to be pretty when it heals.”

“He ain’t pretty to begin with,” John chimed in from his room.  He came out of the room shirtless, two wraps around his shoulder and arm.  He sat down slowly at the table grimacing. Abigail followed, a frown on her face.

“You shouldn’t be movin’,” Abigail said.  Jack hovered around her skirts, concerned for his father.

“If Arthur’s movin’, then I can too,” John retorted.  He grabbed a slice of bread and stuffed it in his face.  “You was out the entire ride home, Arthur. I was awake for most of it.  What happened? We were thinkin’ you weren’t gonna wake up.”

Arthur scratched his too long beard.  “I… dunno. That’s all. Just… had a lot to heal, I guess.”

John seemed to accept the answer.  “You was with Dutch at the end?”

“He saved my life.  Killed Micah.” Arthur’s voice suddenly caught in his throat.  

John seemed to have the same issue.  He blinked harshly a few times and sank in his seat.  He was the first one to break the silence. “I can’t believe he’s gone, Arthur.”

“He was…”  Arthur put down his slice of bread and leaned back in his chair.  It felt wrong to be discussing Dutch over breakfast.  

They completed breakfast in a short manner of time and everyone went off to their rooms to get properly dressed.  Arthur’s chest had been dragged in by Charles and placed into his room. He now dug through it and pulled out his dark clothing.  He rarely wore black, but felt it was appropriate for that day. He wore a crisp black shirt with a black tie and pants. Sadie dressed in her own dark skirt and dark shawl.  

They all gathered once more in the living room and sat around the fireplace.  The fire popped and sizzled as they spoke in low voices. The reality of them being home and alive was a weird feeling that Arthur didn’t quite know how to put into words.  He was beyond happy, but his heart was aching over the loss of Dutch.

“I ain’t a man of many words,” Arthur began, his voice tight in his throat.  “I been with Dutch for twenty years. He saved my life. I wasn’t much more than a hot-headed, foolish criminal.  And Dutch changed that. He taught me to read, to write. He raised me to have morals. Well, outlaw morals. He taught us that our family was more important than anythin’.  And it still is. He lost sight of that… but... “ Arthur sniffed and rubbed his nose. He was determined not to cry in front of everybody. “In the end, this is what he would have wanted for us.  We have each other. Even if he didn’t say it. I just… I’ll miss him.”

John wrapped an arm around Abigail and let out a long sigh.  “That man was like a father to us. He wasn’t perfect. Still.  Rest in peace, Dutch van der Linde. You deserve it.”

As the day went on the atmosphere turned solemn.  To Arthur, it felt like closing a chapter in his life.  It wasn’t an ending he would have chosen, but it was not something he could have changed.  

John pulled Arthur aside in the afternoon.  “Micah and Dutch must have been pullin’ off big jobs,” John said. He had a glass of whiskey in his hand, which helped numb the pain from his wounds.  John led him to a wagon outside the house where a blanket was draped over the contents. He flipped the blanket back, revealing a large wooden chest. He unlocked it and tucked the key back in his pocket.  “They left thousands of dollars behind. We didn’t bother takin’ any of the Pinkerton money, in case the Pinkertons try to chase us down for it. We set for years to come, Arthur. I already gave a decent portion to Javier.  He took off, said he would find his own way.”

“Wondered where he was,” Arthur commented as he opened the chest.  He whistled at the wads of bills. It was more than enough to survive comfortably.  “We’ll portion it out, use it wisely.” It felt odd using money that Arthur hadn’t achieved himself, but what else were they to do with it?  Let the Pinkertons and government have it? No, Dutch would have wanted Arthur and John to have it. Arthur closed the chest and clicked the lock shut.  “Let’s continue workin’ hard, John. This is the life we wanted. And now we got to make the most of it.”

“Abigail and I decided.  I’m buyin’ the land a few miles from here, up north.  More farmland up there. We’ll stay here until you’re settled, Arthur.  But then we’ll be off on our own.”

“Sadie and I will miss ya, but I’m happy for you.” Arthur reached out and shook John’s hand.  He and John hadn’t always gotten along. They had fought, argued, ignored each other, and yet after all that happened, Arthur considered him a brother.

Arthur went to bed that night with his heart full of love for his family, yet full of anguish over the loss of Dutch.  He cradled Sadie in his arms and for the first time in a long time, he fell into a dreamless and peaceful sleep.

 

**Epilogue: Part Two**

 

A week passed without a single cough from Arthur.  Every morning he would wake up, make a fresh pot of coffee, and begin his morning chores without so much of an inkling of tightness in his chest.  His muscles were sore from being put through so much work, but he thrived on the feeling of working hard. He built two crosses for Dutch and Bill and carved their names into the wood.  It felt wrong to not have been able to properly bury them. They deserved so much more. Their crosses were displayed on the edge of the property, in a spot between trees where the sun hit.  Come spring, Arthur planned on planting flowers in the area in remembrance of them.  

One morning when the sky was clear and the snow glistened in the morning sunlight, Arthur noticed someone riding up their path.  Arthur had just finished hanging the sign _Fool’s Hope_ above the path.  He was excited to display it; it only made his home feel more official.

The newcomer looked familiar to Arthur and it only took him a second to realize why.  It was the Pinkerton Arthur had saved, the boyish young man who Arthur had shot in the shoulder.  The man was dressed in plainclothes, his badge hidden from display. There was a rifle on the saddle and a pistol in the man’s holster.  Arthur kept his hand on his own pistol just in case. 

“Can I help you?” Arthur asked, trying to keep his tone light.  He set aside the hammer he had been holding.

The man nodded.  “Yes. Arthur Morgan?”

“Who’s askin’?”

“A friend.”  The man hopped off his horse and walked over to Arthur with his hand out.  

Arthur hesitated for a second, but grasped it in a firm handshake.  He pulled his hand away, still skeptical. “Who’s the friend?”

“Robert Boyd, an agent of the Pinkerton agency.  I’m the one you saved at Beaver Hollow, Mr. Morgan.”

“So I see.  Glad to see you’re still alive.”

If Boyd suspected sarcasm, he didn’t acknowledge it.  “I regret to say Agent Milton and Agent Ross have been killed in the line of duty.  But they did accomplish their goal. The notorious outlaw Dutch van der Linde and the Micah Bell have been killed.  And with that, their case ends with their deaths.”

“Is that so.”

“So what I’m saying is, Mr. Morgan.  The case is closed for good. A life for a life.”

Arthur didn’t know if he could believe it.  “Why? You know where I live, Mr. Boyd. You and the Pinkertons could storm my home any time you wanted.”

“I pushed to bury your case.” Boyd seemed hesitant. “It was difficult, but once we found the bodies and confirmed their deaths, that was that.  But be wary, Mr. Morgan. If I could find you easily enough - so can the Pinkertons. If you truly want to keep living this life, keep your head low.  Pinkertons are backing off for now. You dealt a big blow to them, lost two of their greatest men. But they also destroyed the leaders of the van der Linde gang.  So they think.”

“I will take heed on your advice, Agent Boyd.  You take care now.” Arthur shook his hand once more.

“Take care, Mr. Morgan.  I hope we don’t meet again on either side.”

“I hope so, too.”  Arthur watched the Pinkerton disappear down the path.  He let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding.  He bent down and grabbed the tools, then went to go tell Sadie what had happened. 

December came and Arthur was nearly back to his old self.  He sat in front of the mirror, happy to see his face had started filling in again and the bruises on his face had completely faded away.  His nose had healed almost perfectly, just the tiniest bent at the top. His beard had turned gangly and his hair nearly reached his shoulders.  He determined it was time for a change. He brought out his razors and scissors and went to work. Sadie was out for the day at Charlotte’s and he meant to surprise her.

It was the first day he felt confident in himself.  He had worked some muscles back, though he wasn’t like he had been in his prime.  Still, he could work for long hours without losing breath. Everyday he would be thankful that the tuberculosis seemed to have been eliminated.  He didn’t know how and refused to question it. He had been allowed to live his life with Sadie. That was enough.

He clipped his hair to the best of his ability to just past his ears, then he used pomade to slick it back.  It had been awhile since he had seen himself clean shaven. He chose his outfit carefully, with cleaned and pressed dark pants, white shirt, and blue vest.  John and Abigail had taken the day to pick up supplies in Annesburg, though Arthur had asked them to. He wanted the day to Sadie and himself.  

He cleaned up the house a bit and made sure everything was in pristine condition.  Then he spent several hours cooking, prepping potatoes, beans, salted pork, and bread.  He had asked for a pie recipe from Charlotte and settled on a pecan pie. He had spent at least a day poring over a cooking book, wanting to make everything perfect. 

It wasn’t often that Arthur cooked anymore.  Abigail had taken up cooking and preparing meals for everyone.  It felt good for Arthur to try his hand at it, especially with the intent to surprise Sadie.  He had picked up a few new books for her and had customized a rifle specifically for her. She had always used Arthur’s old guns; it was time she had a set of her own.  

Lastly, he had a solid gold ring set with a simple gem.  It wasn’t entirely fancy, but he had ordered it a few weeks ago and only just picked it up the day before.  It was time to do the proper thing, he had finally decided. He had chosen to set aside the ring he had gotten for Mary Linton; Sadie deserved a new ring meant entirely for her.

The table was set with a fresh tablecloth, dishes were set out, candles were lit, and he poured a glass of wine for her and a shot of whiskey for him.  The grandfather clock was ticking in the background as he waited impatiently by the door. It was near impossible to find flowers this year round, so he had created another jar of the flower he had received from Sinclair.  

He peeked out the window and saw Sadie approaching on her wagon.  She arrived right before the sun began to set. She was five months pregnant and her belly was growing at a steady rate.  He went out to go help her down; her back had started aching and riding a horse saddleback was too much for her anymore. She had refused the wagon at first, but eventually relented.

Sadie’s mouth dropped open once she saw him.  “Well don’t you look different,” she chimed, a wide smile on her face.  Her cheeks were flushed from the brisk wind.  

“Thought it was time for a change,” Arthur said.  He reached up a hand and helped her carefully off the wagon.  

Her hair was loose over her shoulders and her cheeks were just the tiniest plumper from the pregnancy.  She radiated energy and sunshine, which Arthur found completely contagious. He quickly undid the horse from the wagon and let it loose in the pasture, then went to escort Sadie to the house.  She carried a box with her. He struggled to hold back his excitement and his nervousness.

“What is this,” Sadie murmured, her voice suspicious. She walked around the living room in stunned silence, a pleased look on her face. She set aside the box on the coffee table.   “Arthur, did you cook all this?”

“Tried to.  The pecan pie is a bit overdone, but I think it may be edible.”  

Sadie poked at the blackened pie.  “Well, we can attempt to eat it.” 

Arthur moved closer and helped her out of the jacket.  He hung it up by the door then went to pull out the chair at the table.  She sat down with a sparkle in her eye. “You continue to impress me,” she said.  

Arthur grinned.  He dished up a plate for the two of them then sat across from her.  “Well, I thought we’d celebrate Christmas a few days early, take some time to ourselves.  It’s been hard, sharin’ the house with the others.”

“Don’t I know it.  Still, it been fun.” 

“It has.”  

“Anythin’ else I can be expectin’?”

“Why, Sadie, all in due time.  Enjoy your meal, now. I worked so hard on it.”

Sadie laughed.  “Fine. I’ll eat.”  

They made light conversation regarding the ranch and the progress they were making. Despite the months of snow, their house had been holding up well.  The farm animals had been properly taken care of. Come spring, Arthur would have plenty of work on his hands. He was looking forward to it.

“I wish Dutch was here to see it.  Or Hosea,” Arthur lamented as he finished the last bite of his dinner.  

“They’d be proud.  Once the baby is born, we could visit Hosea?” Sadie suggested.  She sipped on the wine.

“I’d like that.”  Arthur stood and went over to the pie.  He grabbed a long knife and attempted to cut into it.  After a few drastic attempts, he managed to chip off a piece.  “Uhh… I don’t think this’ll work.”

“Charlotte made an extra pie.  And now I know why.” Sadie got up and went to the box on the coffee table.  She opened it up and pulled out another pecan pie, golden brown in color. “Said you might like it.”

Arthur scoffed.  He had joked about burning it when he was talking with Charlotte.  He hadn’t realized she had taken him seriously. Still, it was thoughtful of her to plan ahead.  He took the pie from Sadie and cut two pieces. They went over to the couch to eat. 

“I have a couple gifts for you,” Arthur said and went to grab them.

“We ain’t celebratin’ Christmas for another three days!” Sadie reminded him.  “You got time.”

“Nah.  I wanted to surprise you with these.  Couldn’t wait much longer.” Arthur handed her the pile of books first.  It was a random assortment of a couple novels, a book about plants, and one more about hunting.  He then handed her the flower in a jar to her. “Thought you might like a good luck charm of your own.”

“I love it.  Thank you.” Sadie admired the jar and set it aside.  

 Next, he pulled out the rifle from behind one of the curtains.  

“Oh!” Sadie’s eyes lit up once she saw the rifle.  She held out her hands eagerly. “That’s beautiful!”

“Perfect for huntin’.  Scope isn’t the strongest, but it’ll do you well.”

Sadie trailed her fingers along the etched wood where an owl carving was engraved. “Thank you, Arthur.”

“Also…” Arthur went over to the phonograph in the corner of the room.    He started to play some music Dutch would play back at camp. “Sadie Adler, can I have this dance?”

Sadie was shaking her head in disbelief.  She took his hand none the less and let herself be led around the room.  “How’d you learn to dance?” She asked him.

“Ms. Grimshaw.  It was rare, of course, and I don’t remember much, but I know to avoid your toes.”  Arthur swung her in a circle, then pulled her back to him. The lady singing was pleasant to listen to.  They almost never listened to the phonograph as they were very limited on music. They danced slowly, enjoying being in close company with each other.

As the song began to end, Arthur stopped and leaned his forehead against Sadie’s.  “Sadie. I been meanin’ to ask you this. I shoulda asked you a long time ago.” He took a step back and dug into his pocket for the ring.  “You been there for me, you cared for me, stood by me when I needed you the most. You been the most stubborn, most glorious, beautiful woman I have the pleasure of knowin’ and lovin’.”  He took her left hand and held the ring out. His heart was racing like no other. “Will you do me the honor of bein’ my wife?”

“Oh…” Sadie sniffed and nodded fiercely.  “Of course, Arthur Morgan. I will.”

Arthur slipped the ring on her finger and captured her lips in his.  They had shared kisses in the past month, had held and cuddled each other, but that had been it.  The feel of each other’s bodies, the sensation of their bare skin against each other, the rush of emotions and lust had yet to happen.  

That night Arthur was determined to change that.  There was no more illness coming between the two. It was just him and Sadie.  He led her back to the bed and together they tenderly undressed the other, pulling off their garments, admiring each other’s bodies.  Sadie kissed Arthur’s scars with a silent touch. Arthur ran his hand over the bullet wound scar on her own arm, silently vowing to not let it happen again.

They laid onto the bed and he let his hands run over her breasts.  He caressed her pregnant belly while he continued to explore the nipples with his mouth.  She curved against him, her body shivering with need.  

He took his time with her, finally exploring her folds and clit with his tongue, clenching her thighs with his hands.  It was a night where they set to out to relearn each other’s bodies. Arthur was sure to be careful with each movement, each thrust, aware of every sound Sadie made.  They changed positions with Sadie on top and she took control, capturing him in a wave of pleasure. Together they pushed themselves until they couldn’t hold back anymore.  Sadie collapsed against him and they held each other, their skin sweaty and their breath hot against their skin. Arthur held Sadie closely to him, eternally grateful she was his.

 

**Epilogue: Part Three**

 

Christmas time passed.  Arthur and Sadie would find times to escape back to their bedroom to make love once more, making up for their lost time over the past few months.  Each morning Arthur would wake up dumbfounded Sadie was still there. He worked hard to make their lives work.

They set the wedding for early April.  They would get married right before the baby was born.  It would be a private, small ceremony, with only a few people invited.  Arthur and Sadie would travel to Strawberry come January to see Mary-Beth and Kieran get married, visit Hosea, then make their way back to Annesburg, where they would stay until the baby was born.

They arrived in Strawberry, snow still fresh on the hills. John and Abigail and come along as well, while Charles had stayed behind to care for the ranch with Charlotte.  Mary-Beth’s and Keran’s new house was a simple cabin just off the main road outside of Strawberry.

Mary-Beth was the first to greet them.  She was dressed for warm weather and her hair was done up in curls and ribbons.  She dashed out to meet them. “Sadie, Arthur! I missed you so much!” She hugged the two of them one after the other.  “Oh, I have so much to tell you! Oh my gosh, John, Abigail! And Jack! You’ve grown so much!”

She led them all into her house where a dinner was already prepped.  It was a quaint cabin, a bit smaller than Arthur’s, but was decorated with simple decor of pillows, portraits, and small trinkets.  

“You done well for yourself,” Arthur said as he looked around.  

“Oh, you can thank Kieran for that.  He’s one of the main stablehands, now.  He basically runs the place.”

“I wouldn’t say that, Mary-Beth,” Kieran said, coming through the front door.  He shook Arthur’s hand. “Good to see you again, Arthur. I heard you been through some rough patches.”

“It’s all for the better, now.”

“He’s gonna be a pa!” Mary-Beth exclaimed.  “Sometime in April or May!”

Kieran looked stunned, then regained his composure.  “Congratulations, Arthur, Sadie!”

“Oh, I just cannot wait to show you this.”  Mary-Beth walked over to a bookshelf and pulled out a notebook. She handed it to Arthur.  “It’s a manuscript of my first novel that’s gonna be published here soon. Within the next year, maybe.”

Arthur was surprised but pleased.  “Always knew you had it in you.”

“Keep that one, I have more.”

The days passed of everyone catching up and finally Mary-Beth and Kieran exchanged vows within a week.  Mary-Beth had confessed to Sadie she was already expecting a child of her own, but she was still determined to be a working novelist and mother.  Arthur kept teasing Kieran the world didn’t need two Kieran’s running around; Kieran would remind him the world was already doomed with another Arthur on the way.

The time came that they left Strawberry and Mary-Beth and Kieran behind.  It would be months until Arthur would see them again and he would surely miss them.  They were good people, some of the best.

When they were passing the Grizzlies, the snow hit hard and they determined it was unsafe to travel higher into the mountains.  Arthur was disappointed to miss his chance to visit Hosea, but they decided to visit him late summer. Arthur kept writing Hosea letters to keep him updated.

As Sadie’s pregnancy continued, Arthur turned more and more nervous.  There was a midwife in Annesburg who could make the trip out, though there was a big chance she would arrive too late since they were far.  Arthur did his best to make sure Sadie had everything she needed. 

 Months passed.  Sadie’s belly kept growing in size and Arthur’s nervousness and excitement grew as well.  Right as the snow had melted in late February, Arthur had left to St. Denis to buy more lumber, and returned with the intent to build the large stable.  It was a joint effort between Charles, John, and himself, that took many weeks to finally complete. It was a stable that could host up to eight horses. Kieran had passed along many tips for running a successful stable and Arthur was looking forward to actually putting it to use. 

John eventually bought the land north and the home building process began all over again.  He and Abigail planned to have more of a ranch farm, with more options for livestock. As each day passed, Arthur could feel his strength returning and when April finally hit and John’s house was completed, he was back to his full strength.  

John, Abigail, and Jack moved to their own house for the first time.  There was still much work to do at John’s property, but Arthur had to focus on himself during the month of April.  Him and Sadie prepared one of the rooms for the baby and made sure they had everything the baby would need.

As Sadie was in the third trimester and nine months pregnant, she moved slowly, but still tried to do her part.  Their wedding was just around the corner.

“Why did we choose to get married when I’m this large?” Sadie asked with a grimace.  It was the night before the wedding and she was headed to Charlotte’s for the night.  

Arthur kissed her on the nose.  “You still pretty to me.”

“You are a biased man.”

“Maybe so.  See ya in the mornin’, Sadie.”  Arthur leaned down and kissed her one more time.  

The next time he would see her, they would be married.  

People had arrived for the wedding and were camped around Arthur’s property.  Tilly and Lenny both showed up at the same time. Arthur suspected they were seeing each other, but that apparently wasn’t the case.  Tilly claimed to be courting someone in St. Denis. Mary-Beth and Kieran showed up, with Mary-Beth glowing from her pregnancy. She was now a published author and showed off her book excitedly.  Javier showed up at the last second and only said he could be there for one night.

Pearson was more than delighted to cook for their wedding.  He avoided the stew, but prepared gator-deviled eggs, garlic mashed potatoes, cheese stuffed meatballs, mixed vegetables, and for dessert, a simple white cake.  He spent all day in Arthur’s kitchen, humming a tune to himself.

There were others who didn’t show.  Arthur had little clue how to contact Swanson, Uncle, Ms. Grimshaw, Molly, or Karen.  Hosea deemed himself unfit to travel. He didn’t bother with Strauss. Arthur was sure if he ever saw Strauss, he would send that man packing.  

Albert Mason even showed up, camera in tow.  Arthur had run into him in Annesburg a few months ago and invited him.  It was a pleasant surprise. Albert Mason walked around the groups of people and snapped random pictures.  That night, everybody was celebrating being back together again, if only for a few days.  

The day of the wedding, Arthur stood in front of his bedroom mirror, dressed in his finest clothing.  He wore dark pants and a white long sleeved shirt with a high collar. He was currently struggling with the tie around his neck.  He wanted to look perfect for Sadie.

Someone knocked on the door. 

“Come in,” Arthur called.  

The door creaked open and Hosea was peeking his head through.  

Arthur was to the door and hugging the man in less than a second.  It was a brisk hug; he backed off and looked Hosea over. The man had seemed to age immensely, with his hair pure white and wrinkles around his eyes that hadn’t been there before. He was skinnier as well.  Still, it was the same Hosea, his eyes full of wisdom and understanding.

“I thought you couldn’t make it,” Arthur said in awe.  

“Well, I suddenly felt a bit better and a new friend of mine was willing to travel with me.”

“Who’s that?”

“Hamish Sinclair.  He’s been letting me live at his cabin with him.  He’s retired, old, and ready to live a simple life.  Like me.”

“Well, that’s good.  I’m glad you could make it.”

“Here.”  Hosea reached up and started fiddling with the tie.  “You’ve done well for yourself, Arthur. Glad you finally started using that head of yours.”

“I’m sorry about Dutch-“

Hosea shook his head.  “Don’t be. This is what we did to ourselves, Arthur.  We dragged you along our adventures. Now it’s time for you to create your own.”  Hosea finished with the tie and patted Arthur’s shoulder. “Now. Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”

Arthur buttoned up a white vest and black dress jacket, then left the room with Hosea.  The wedding would be held at the front of the house where Abigail had hung some vines and flowers over the edge of the roof.  The smells from the kitchen drafted out to the front of the house; Pearson had outdone himself. Everybody was gathered to the side, leaving an aisle down the middle.  Sadie was due to arrive at any moment and Arthur wiped his sweating hands on his pants, his nerves dancing on end. 

Then Sadie was approaching on a wagon driven by Charles.  Arthur’s breath caught in his throat. She was dressed in a frilled white shirt and a layered white skirt, and held a bouquet of white and yellow roses in her hand.  Her hair was curled and pinned with white and blue ribbons. Hosea took it upon himself to grab her hand and helped her off the wagon, then led her to Arthur. 

Arthur took her hand and stared into her warm brown eyes, not caring if he had a goofy smile on his face.  This was happening, like it should have happened a long time ago.  

The priest was from Annesburg and led a simple ceremony, and as soon as Arthur and Sadie repeated their vows to each other, they were husband and wife.  Arthur kissed Sadie passionately, the cheers from the crowd being drowned out by his beating heart.  

Arthur led the new Sadie Morgan to the crowd and everything seemed to pass in a blur.  They greeted people, laughed with them, celebrated with them. They all praised Pearson for the food and sat around the campfire, reminiscing about their time together throughout the years.

As night began to fall, Hosea wandered away to the gravestones Arthur had built.  Arthur followed him, slightly tipsy from having too much whiskey, but still in control enough to hold a conversation.  He found Hosea blowing his nose into a hanky as if he had been crying.

Arthur had never seen Hosea cry before.  Maybe when Bessie passed and when it took nearly a year for Hosea to accept her death.  But he was always strong as he had to be.  

“Don’t mind me, Arthur,” Hosea said. 

Arthur looked back to the group.  John was drunk and teasing Kieran about something mercilessly.  Sadie sat on a chair around the campfire, chattering intensely about something with Mary-Beth.  Everybody was enjoying themselves. “I got time, Hosea.”

“This is what he would have wanted for us,” Hosea said suddenly.  He motioned to Dutch’s makeshift grave which was covered in spring flowers.  He blew his nose once more and cleared his throat. “He wanted us to be happy, to be a family, but we kept screwin’ up left and right.  You did what we couldn’t, Arthur. You should know that.”

“Well, I did have two of the greatest father’s growin’ up.  You two taught me everythin’ I know.”

Hosea clapped Arthur on the shoulder.  “We taught you some. You did the rest.  Now get back to your party, Arthur. I’ll be here awhile yet.”

Arthur nodded and wandered over to Sadie.  She had a glass of water in her hand and was resting her other hand on the top of her stomach.  He appeared behind her and planted a kiss on the top of her head. “You doin’ okay, Sadie _Morgan_?”

“Oh I’m doin’ fine,” Sadie beamed up at him.  “Surprised you still standin’.”

Arthur nuzzled her ear.  “I’m thinkin’ I wanna be sober when I ravish you tonight.”

Sadie choked on her water.  “You utter rascal.”

Javier started a new song as he plucked away at his guitar.  Arthur barely knew the song as most of it was in Spanish, but he and John did their best to sing along with the chorus.  Kieran was watching from the sidelines, a little wobbly from too much drink, and had refused to sing along. Arthur and John went to stand on either side of him, looped their arms around his back, and belted at the top of their lungs to try to convince Kieran to sing along.  In the end, Kieran was dying from embarrassment but squeaked out a few quiet lines. 

Once the moon was high in the sky, everyone began to bid their goodnights. Arthur picked up Sadie bridal style, despite her complaints she was too heavy, before going into the house.  He gave a wink to everyone outside and made his way inside. He set Sadie down outside their bedroom and she gasped as her feet touched the floor.  

“I think my water just broke,” Sadie whispered frantically.  She gripped Arthur’s arms with an iron grip as she lifted her skirts.  Sure enough, there was water dripping down her legs and a tiny puddle on the floor. 

Arthur whisked her back up in his arms and carried her to the bed.  Once she was down, he ran outside and found Charles and Charlotte still sitting at the campfire.  “Watch over Sadie, I’ll be back with the midwife…” he said as he stumbled towards the stable. His head was not clear enough to walk straight in a hurry.

“Slow down!”  Charles called.  He ran over to Arthur and pushed him in the direction of the house.  “You aren’t sober enough, my friend. I’ll ride for the midwife. You and Charlotte can watch over Sadie, you hear me?”

Arthur nodded somberly and headed back into the house.  If Charles moved fast, he would be back in a couple hours with the midwife.  Which was plenty of time, if Sadie happened to be in labor for a long time.  

He hated seeing her in pain.  The contractions were slow at first and Sadie’s face turned red as one passed painfully.  He couldn’t do much beside offer his hand, which she squeezed with unbelievable strength. Charlotte had gathered all the supplies needed and was on standby.  Mary-Beth and Abigail stayed awake in the living room, offering their support where they could. 

The contractions started picking up and light started peeking through the windows.  Arthur dotted Sadie’s forehead with a cold towel to wipe the sweat off her brow. “You’re doin’ great, Sadie,” he murmured.  

“I want it out of me,” Sadie huffed.  “This is _your_ fault.”

“I believe it’s _our_ fault.”

Sadie only glared at him, then took a sharp intake of breath once another wave passed. 

The bedroom door opened and an older, motherly woman walked through, dressed in simple shift and knitted shawl.  “You are the father?” she asked Arthur. When he nodded, she shooed him out. “We’ll handle this.” 

“But-”

“No buts.  Out.”

John was sitting inside the living room.  He stood up, stretched, then motioned for Arthur to follow him outside.  “Let’s leave them to it, Arthur.”  

Arthur followed him begrudgingly and they went about the ranch to do the morning chores.  John smoked a cigarette as he haphazardly fed the chickens. Arthur set to work fixing a hole in the chicken coop, though he couldn’t keep his mind on the work.  He kept stopping to look back at the house.  

“You’ll be a good pa,” John said, blowing out a puff of smoke.  “You’ll be better at it than me, you know.”

“You got better,” Arthur said.  “And you’ve proven it. Built a house for your family, made sure they were settled.  To be honest, I didn’t think you would have it in you.”

“You made it look easy.”  John set aside the bucket of feed and went to go sit at the campfire.  Arthur followed suit. They continued to make small talk until one piercing sound caught their attention.  A baby’s cry.

Arthur dashed inside and could see the smiling faces of the women and he knew everything was well.  “How is she?” he asked.

The midwife stepped out of the room.  She looked pleased. “You’re a pa to a fierce baby girl, Mr. Morgan.  You welcome to come inside, now.”  

Arthur felt dizzy as he walked in and sat on the chair next to the bed.  Sadie’s freckles were dark against her pale face and her eyes had bags from the lack of sleep.  Yet she was glowing as she held the newborn baby, her hair in sweaty disarray around her face, looking just as beautiful as the last time Arthur saw her.  

“Come meet your daughter,” Sadie said and held out the little girl.

Arthur blinked through foggy eyes as he accepted the tiny bundle.  She was so light and had a head full of fuzzy blond hair. He supported her head and whispered _hello_ to the sleeping baby.  The baby moved her arms and head, still in a bit of a mess from the birth.  

“This is the start of our new life, Arthur,” Sadie said tiredly, yet her voice was full of love.  “I wanna call her after your mother.”

“Beatrice?” Arthur questioned.  “Maybe shorten it to Bea?”

“Bea Morgan.  You think that suits her?”

“I think it suits her just fine.”

“Well, then.  Bea it is.” Arthur stood up and carefully placed his daughter back in Sadie’s arms.  He softly kissed Sadie. “Good job, mama.”  

A week later Albert Mason dropped off photographs he had taken of the wedding and the birth, then he continued on his way.  Everyone had taken off, back to their homes and their lives. It was just Arthur and Sadie now. Arthur sat on his couch while Sadie sat in a rocking chair nursing Bea.  It was a beautiful day with blue sky and the fresh smell of flowers drifting in from the garden.

Arthur opened the letter of photographs and flipped through them, chuckling over silly pictures of John and everybody else.  Then Arthur flipped to a picture of him and Sadie, where they were holding hands, smiling and laughing as they walked down the aisle just after getting married. 

Arthur went over to his journal and flipped through it until he found the picture Albert had given him all those months ago, the picture of Arthur where he looked unhappy and tired, like the world was on his shoulders.  He compared the two pictures and couldn’t believe the difference between them. It was as if he was staring at two different people. Albert had asked him all that time ago if Arthur was happy.

Arthur looked to Sadie, Bea, his house, the horses, the picture of the old gang hanging on the wall and the fond memories he had of them all - yes.  He could finally say he was happy.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This is such a long epilogue but it felt wrong to post it in three parts!)
> 
> Red Dead Redemption 2 was beautiful and tragic and I absolutely loved playing the game. It was done very well and had me in tears by the ending. The actors, characters, writers, artists, developers… they nailed it. 
> 
> I wouldn’t change how the game was made one bit. I love tragic stories. But this fanfiction was my “What if?” thought. What if Arthur Morgan got out of the van der Linde gang sooner? What if he questioned his loyalty more? What if he and Sadie fell in love? What if Arthur was allowed to live? What if Kieran lived? What if what if what if.
> 
> The hardest part was coming up with a plan to have Arthur survive AND have tuberculosis. That’s when I added Francis Sinclair to the mix and added a bit of a magical flair to it. I have my own head canon of what Francis would have done, but I wanted to leave it a mystery, as well. We see Francis from Arthur’s POV and I wanted to keep it that way, nice and subtle. Arthur has no idea why he survived, but he did.
> 
> In the end I have five outlines for this story. The first? This was supposed to be an Arthur/Charlotte story in the end. We can see how that turned out! It wasn’t going to be with the way I was writing it. It wasn’t until I had Charles and Charlotte together that I thought, “huh… this could work instead.”
> 
> Even though Sadie’s become a mother, she’s still a headstrong, independent woman who lives for adventure. If I were to continue writing this, you bet she’d be causing a bit of trouble and Arthur would keep loving and supporting her.
> 
> But for now, they’re happy, with Dutch watching over them from above. Or below. And that’s all I wanted for them.
> 
> I could keep writing, but I’ll stop here. Thank you SO much for reading and sticking through this story! I love you all and your reviews make me so happy, you have no idea. Much love,
> 
> MustardGal

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


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